My Only Hope
by LadyGrunge
Summary: “If you knew I was…if you saw it…why, Granger? Why help me? Why not just call the order and be done with it?” There was no pause in her answer. "I'm giving you a chance, since the first time I've...met you not to be your father. Don't screw it up, Malfoy"
1. The Chance

This goes for every word written in . My Only Hope ., every chapter, and every character. I OWN NOTHING! I'm simply having a little fun with their fluffy dolls for a while. No copyright intended in the least!

It was just a night. Such a cliché way to begin such a truly life altering moment but it was so fitting. Hermione sat quite content in the floral print, over stuffed arm chair resting quietly in front of the dying embers of her parents fireplace in muggle London. While they heeded her cryptic advice to relocate (with much persuasion from Professor McGonagall I might add) to America until this dreaded war was over, she remained engulfed in the worn pages of her book, lightly running her fingertip along the soft edges of the pages in the solitude she desperately wanted but knew wouldn't last. Just as her mind began to wander towards the dark storm she could feel looming in the near distance, a much more electric one slammed full force into her front door.

The sound echoed through the cottage style home, reverting up her spine as she slammed her own hands down against the arms of the chair. Her small frame sat rigid, brown eyes wide and frozen in momentary fear. Death Eaters. It was the only thought racing through her rather logical brain while her priceless book tumbled helplessly to the floor in front of her feet as she tried to find any other explanation for such a loud intrusion but suddenly, there it was again…BANG! Her pulse sped like rapid lightening. She could feel it in her veins, she could feel her heart slamming so loudly against her chest that she was sure her ribcage wouldn't be able to withstand breaking in two. Nails dug into the cushions on either arm of the chair, her vision sputtering like a movie rail, lined in black squares and jittering back and forth before she heard the thudding begin once again. Not just once this time, it was a pounding, strong but something seemed off about the power behind it. If she wasn't mistaken, it almost sounded…desperate. Summoning as much courage as her Gryffindor body through and through could hold, Hermione jolted to her feet, drawing her wand from the back of her jeans pocket with pure precision and stalked the door the stake her claim on her home.

"State your purpose!" It took every nerve in her body conjoined to keep her voice from shuddering and trembling like she was sure that she was but no sound answered back. She dared to inch a step forward, listening more intently for any sign of presence but the eerie silence held true. "I said state your…" her words died off as dull thud fell against the barrier between her and whatever was outside. Hermione could hear something dragging down the wood panels and slump to a heap just outside. Her mind tore in two, was it a trap? What if it was Harry? Ron? No, she wouldn't let her fear cripple her and it's not like it was the first time she'd risked her own neck to save one of those two wankers. She tugged the dead bolt with a loud snap, yanking the door open and jerking her wand out with narrowed eyes, lips parted ready for anything but that anything wasn't standing before her. That anything fell backwards against her legs in a pile of tattered black robes, crimson trails of matted blood, and platinum gold strands splayed out over her welcome mat.

"Malfoy?" the look of anger slid from chocolate eyes, flashing a quick look of disgust, maybe even hatred but that soon vanished and all she was left with, besides the after effect of shock, was a focused concern. If only she could shake the movie vision and her own heartbeat to decipher what exactly was happening! "Merlin…Malfoy…" lowering her wand she muttered a quick levitation spell, hauling his body over to the couch before dropping him all too unceremoniously in her disoriented state. For a moment she winced, briefly regaining composure, but the slight fall didn't seem to jar more than a weak groan out of Draco as he lay sprawled and seemingly unconscious and much to her dislike, her nervous state returned full force. With a wave of her hand the door slammed crudely, lock snapping into place while she sunk into the adjoining chair, dropping her chin in the palms of her hands, elbows resting on her knees to silently stare at his battered form and fight her current feeling of being just inches away from blacking out herself.

He almost looked peaceful. Hermione couldn't help but observe how almost pleasant he looked when he wasn't sneering at someone or scowling like Snape but that didn't change the fact that Draco Malfoy was currently lying in his own blood on her sofa in muggle London. It didn't change the fact that Draco Malfoy was a known Death Eater and hadn't been seen since his pardon from the ministry for the attempted assassination of Professor Dumbeldore. Of course, Harry was beyond control when he learned Malfoy was freed from all chains. The questions still remained…why come to her? Why dare stepping foot in a muggle town, why was he suddenly asking for help knowing their unique hatred especially after the black hole he tore from her heart for even being near such a brutal, cold hearted slaying? No, he needed help and that was the bottom line.

Hermione gave herself a quick nod and settled her hands against the round of her knees, pushing upright to begin the duty of saving the Prince of Slytherin.

To say it was an easy task to tend to the mess that was in the form of her arch nemesis on Hogwarts grounds was like saying this war was like picking out a new kitten. He was a lifeless form of skin while she managed to undress him to the necessities. The sight of him engulfed by the sofa cushions, limbs tossed wherever they fell was normally half the female student population's choice to spend a Saturday night drooling over. She'd admit, this tall frame obviously well toned, most likely from Quidditch she imagined, wasn't repulsive in the least but that was just an outer shell of him. Hermione shook her head firmly as she kneeled next to his position on the sofa and finally the movie vision had cleared!

Those roaming eyes of hers truly took in the damage done to his usually unmarked flesh but now…now it was a sick mutation of connect the dot. Stab wounds, dark scrapes, angry burns from obviously powerful curses, welts, scrapes, it was truly brutality. And for the first time in the entire six years she had been aware of his existence, Hermione felt sorry for him.

It took four hours. Four long and tedious hours Hermione spent healing, washing, bandaging, curing, and covering every mark that plagued his body but it was her own body felt battered and bruised from the sheer amount of concentration it took. Her slender fingers loosened her grip against her wand, letting her hand fall limp against the edge of the couch beside his body. Her eye lids began to flutter, the nights events hitting her like Draco's fist against her door mere hours ago. Hermione felt her head wavering, inching closer and closer to where her arm draped before she felt herself jerk upright. If she wasn't half delirious she would have sworn someone touched her cheek and as her head slid back down to finally make connection to the soft skin of her forearm she heard the low, groaned words softly in the distance, "Thank you…"


	2. The Morning After

Sun crept through every nook and cranny in those nearly sheer lace curtains draping in front of the large pane of window glass but that creeping light hit her eyelids with the force of wrecking ball. Hermione instantly screwed her eyes shut, burying her head in the crook of her arm to shield out the intruding light. Her body ached and for the life of her she couldn't remember why she had fallen asleep downstairs. Shifting lightly, Hermione stretched out her body with a small yawn pressing her lips part, raising her arms above her head before attempting to recrack her sleepy eyes back into reality…_oh shite_…Her body sat rigid eyes locked and open wide awake as she stared at the pointed clouded grey haze that was Draco Malfoy, lying back on her mother's sofa staring back at her.

Neither of them said a word. The tension was beginning to become overwhelming, nearly choking her as she pressed her lips in a fine line, pursing them tightly. Hermione felt a little indifferent on how to look at him now. She had seen him at his worst, or thus she's known so far, seen him as an enemy, seen him as a human being but Draco was none the wiser of three of the four above mentioned in his unconscious state. Draco shifted, drawing his elbows underneath him in attempt to drag himself upright. His teeth clenched together, gritted tightly. Hermione inched further up on her knees, almost beckoned to help ease the pain she was sure was nothing more than sore muscles from the night's events. "Don't…" she stilled at the sound of his voice. It was low and smooth, lacking of any true venom or bitter snark. Finally he had situated himself to a position a little better suited to address her; after all, he had just spent the last hour and a half watching her sleep beside him on the floor, wand dropped to the ground carelessly. It may not have meant much for anyone else but that simple sign told him that after everything he'd done to wrong her, she trusted him enough to let down her guard, she put down her defense. And he hated her for that. She truly was better than him.

The questions had her lips parting and pursing rapidly in confusion. Every time the question tipped her tongue, it died back as she questioned her choice, what if she only got one before he disappeared? That seemed like a very Slytherin thing to do; this was Draco sodding Malfoy for Merlin's sake. With a desperate sigh, Hermione snapped Draco from his dazing thoughts and snapped his vision back to her, her face set with all the determination she could muster.

"How bad is it?" Had he heard her right? She spends five minutes thinking of something to say and that's what she asks?

While he couldn't hide the arch to those pale, slender brows, the hint of confusion evident around his expressions, he indulged her none the less, flicking his head to send a stray platinum strand back and away from his sight. "Bad, Granger."

She went back to her silence, her eyes focused on nothing particular on the floor nodding her head softly to herself like she was replaying the words over and over in her head like she had missed something. It was maddening to watch her like that!

"I didn't have…there wasn't…" Draco paused once more, searching for the right words as he mentally chastised himself for stumbling on his wording in front of Granger, Merlin, like he hadn't shown enough weakness in front of her already! "There was no where safe for me to go. My father …"

Hermione lifted her hand sharply before her eyes lifted to meet his full force, "I know."

Draco leaned back on his elbows. She knew? She knew what? She knew what had happened to him? That's impossible. There was no way she could have, right? While he was the one left questioning her words, Hermione opened her palm in signal down towards his left arm half pressed into the couch cushions. Cerulean eyes drifted down to follow her trail. His heart skipped a beat and he suddenly her statement was all too clear.

"If you knew I was…if you saw it…why, Granger? Why help me? Why not just call the order and be done with it?"

There was no pause in her answer and with her hands now lying in her lap; she tilted her head to the side, a stray curl slipping to brush against her cheekbone, "I'm giving you a chance, for the first time since I've…met you, not to be your father. Don't screw it up, Malfoy."


	3. Only Tonight

_I'm trying to keep my chapters short and sweet so I can keep the story moving along but I promise I'll add some lengthy and probably steamy stuff later. XD I originally wanted this story to have a playlist to go with certain parts of the story, maybe whip up some videos later on. What do you think? Ye or Ney? _

Draco spent much of the day sleeping as Hermione sat curled up in her arm chair she'd tilted to face him, for medical reasons of course…or so she told herself. Occasionally he would wake and she'd set her book down in her lap, finger marking her pinpoint spot as he'd let his eyes flutter open. He never spoke much, usually just attempting to change his position or grumbling as he pointed to his throat. She'd pour him a glass of water from the pitcher she'd set on the end table hours before and help him lean up to drink it. She'd even helped him drag his body to and from her bathroom at least twice by now. He still had yet to say the words she'd heard the night before, the soft thank you she'd finally accepted did retreat from his mouth but every time she aided him, he'd gave her a small appreciative smile and this simple face that she knew he was trying to say, "I can't help it."

The hours dragged on and that nagging feeling to owl Harry was looming in her mind. This was going to be bad news, she could already feel it. It took three more chapters, one bathroom trip later, and a cup of tea before she finally called Hedwig to come retrieve her letter. Hedwig in all his majestic glory bowed his head low before retreating out into the night, leaving Hermione to lock the double latch windows. _Please understand. _Hanging her head downward, Hermione made her way back to her seat a crossed from Malfoy, plopping down to battle the nagging feeling crawling and swelling in her stomach.

She never remembered falling asleep, for the second time with him, but the next thing she remembered she was flashed awake by a rather livid nightmare involving said Draco Malfoy and her own Harry Potter. She felt her body jolt upright, her hand clutching her heart through skin and bone. Chest heaving and a small sheen of sweat coating her skin, working her way back down to reality as a hand moved to rest against her forearm, problem was, it wasn't hers. Her head whipped in a mass of wild curls to find Draco curled into her partially detached body, his hand on her arm; head tilted up from the pillows half under. She was in her bed…how had she gotten into her bed? How did he get to her bed?! "Relax…it was just a dream."

"This is not a dream, Malfoy…you're in my bed," she couldn't help but sound exasperated, still reveling in the aftermath of very person holding her as only a loved one should. Draco smiled softly, his expressions relaxing as he rested back down onto the bed, his hand tugging her arm softly as she subconsciously obeyed to lay down onto the mattress in a rigid stance. "You looked uncomfortable," he mumbled softly to her, turning his body into her once again with his arm draping back around her waist, tilting his head up with words breathing into her ear, "you're giving me a chance, remember?"

Merlin did she want to smack the arrogance right off his tongue but he was so close, body pressing against her as he held her tight. Her slippers had long since been lost, dressed only in the thin white tight shirt and an old pair of cut off sweat shorts and he only in the necessity of his boxers left little to their imaginations. With their limbs entwined, he could feel the smooth span of her legs wrapped in his, the small patch of exposed skin on her stomach, his chin resting into her neck and if only for tonight, Draco felt like he was truly at rest. He could battle the demons of whether it was just the warm body pressed against him, the fact that she'd tended to him so selflessly as no one but his mother would do, or if it was simply being next to her in the morning.

It took a much deeper internal battle raging in her mind until Hermione finally shifted down into the mattress, wrapping her arm a top his own tossed along her waist, settling her head against his bicep. His arm tightened briefly against her waist, pulling her flush against him as he grumbled in her ear once again, "It was just a dream. I'm right here." He felt her sigh and sink back into him, feeling her lashes tickle his skin as they closed. "It's just me." Hermione felt her breath hitch in her chest. That was the problem now wasn't it? She didn't know this man she only felt comfortable calling Draco and while he might have appeared to be momentarily harmless, suave and charming individual, he had caused too many physical and emotion scars though the years to forget the conniving, murderous, dangerous boy Malfoy she'd grown to despise. If only for tonight, Hermione chose to fall asleep in the arms of Draco, the arms of a man who needed someone's help and whether she was ready to admit it or not, maybe someone who could help her. But only for tonight.


	4. Enter Wonderboy

_Listen to Heartless by The Fray during the Harry scene. Was super fun to write to! Really excited about the feedback and support so thank you everyone! I've got some fun planned for these two later on. Muhaha. Again, I own nothing._

Instead of the light creeping in to rob her of her slumber, the obscenely loud clanking began to shake her from her reverie. Stretching her body out, her cringed at the stiffness in her limbs and in a replay of the night's events, she suddenly felt the sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach. Her eyes opened wide, staring directly at a sleeping Draco rolled to face her, arm beneath her head, his other still thrown over her. The night was over, the moment was gone, and she had no idea what became of it now. Of all the toying and games he'd played at her expense for the past years, this by far was the most emotional wreck he'd mentally put her into. Slowly she began to roll over, sliding a leg out of the sheets, trying to search for the ground in an attempt to escape, the only thing she knew how to do at this moment.

Draco's hand slid from the length of her waist, dropping softly against the mattress as she climbed from the bed but it was enough to startle him awake at the sudden loss of her warmth. In his own dragging movements, he settled his elbow beneath him, propping himself up to watch her as she turned abruptly, cheeks flushing rose, to face him. Draco scowled himself as he placed his feet down onto the ground, turning himself away from her, his own unsure feelings taking hold. They both emotionally ran to their safe zone, tossing up masks and as many walls as they could quickly conjure up. Hermione stared at her bare feet, shifting her weight back and forth from leg to leg as she rung her hands together nervously, "I was going to make some tea."

Draco sighed, dropping his head, "Stop. Please stop trying to help." While he expected her to scamper from the room like most women, Granger slammed her hands onto her hips, her brows knit together angered by his nerve.

"Stop trying to help, Malfoy? You're a spoiled little brat, you know that? Why don't you go find daddy, I'm sure he's missing you by now." Bitterly she spat those few choice words, stomping her way around the bed, eyes flaring in gold specks. His hand shot out faster then he'd intended, grabbing firm hold of her wrist. With one quick jerk he whipped her around to face him, standing from the bed to close the distance between them, leaving the sheet to fall into a mess of fabric on her floor.

"Don't you talk like you know anything about me, Granger."

"You're right, Malfoy! I don't know anything about you. I thought I was starting to know _Draco_ but it seems I was sorely proven wrong. Now. Let. Go. Because you don't know anything about me. I won't hesitate to put you back in the same state you came in as."

Her eyes were narrowed, teeth gritted with her lips pursed together to control her temper, her body rigid and ready to pounce. She surely was the cat backed into a corner now wasn't she? Her anger should have humored him, should have given him a good chuckle before he collected his things and strolled on to greener pastures, well, if there was one. Fact is, Draco didn't like asking for her help but he needed a safe lay low, he needed something he was never sure how to identify, right now, he needed her and he was quite content where he was.

"Oh I know you, Granger." He jerked her wrist, pulling her into him before he turned, shoving her back and onto the mattress. Hermione let a small scream escape her mouth but his hand was over it in mere seconds, his body over top of her, her quilt tangled around the bottom of their legs. Draco's face was inches from her own, the fine lines traced in anger. "And I know that I. Hate. You." His words were doused in venom, nearly growling in her face but she held her fire. Suddenly he gripped her hand, slamming it down onto his left forearm, keeping his hand planted firmly over her mouth. In a blink of her eye, Hermione felt the cold tingle tickling the palm of her hand and she felt Draco's body stiffen against her. Someone telling her that they hated her while lying between her legs, a top her, in such minimal amount of clothing was not exactly ideal and she tried in protest to hit his chest with her small hand. His marred flesh in that terrible symbol pulsed a horrible rhythm into her hand, making her heart race as that heat penetrated her from the inside out.

"I am a murderer. I am a Death Eater. I hate your kind." She whimpered beneath his fingers, closing her eyes tightly, "But I can't walk away." He mumbled as his hand slid away, lowering his mouth to brush against the corner of her own. Draco released her hand, moving his own to press into the pillow on either side of her head, lids closed, and breathing deeply above her. Chocolate hues remained shut off from the world, lifting her hand to brush along the sculpture of his cheekbone, breathing him in as he breathed her out.

This was not the boy who had just shut himself off, this was the man she kept catching fleeting glances of. She wanted to shove him to the floor and kick him repeatedly for jumping between the two. Every time she allowed her guard to drop, enter the cocky Malfoy in all his control freak nature. With every instance that he went cold, she'd curse herself for playing into his games when he'd do the 180 degree switch back but how could you blame her? Those lips, those words, that body…she was already coming undone at the seams from the mere anticipation. "Draco…" her voice was barely above a whisper as his lips moved to taste his name off from her lips but just as his bottom lip connected to her own; her bedroom door flung open, slamming full force into her dresser knocking over a few frames along the way. Hermione gasped outright, jerking her head to the door while Draco bit back a growl, lulling his head to the side to take in the intrusion. _This better be good. _Oh, was it good.

There scarhead stood with a nervous look slowly draining with the color in his face and turning into something much more Malfoy like. True hatred. Harry remained still as Draco leaned up a little further, chancing a glance down at Hermione who looked utterly in disbelief. Unbelievably slow did Harry enter the room, closing the door discretely behind him. His voice was low but ground into the air as he addressed them, "get the bloody hell off of her, Malfoy." Hermione was giving him a pleading look and while he would never accept it was for her, he moved to slide out of the bed, standing upright with his hands held up defensively. "This isn't what you think, Harry." Hermione was already sitting up, scooting to the other side of the bed towards Potter who seemed none too surprised that he was already there.

"He's a freaking Death Eater, are you crazy!?" Harry was past reasoning, ranting animatedly with his hands as he neared the now standing Hermione who was trying desperately to reason with him. "He's setting you up. He's setting us up! You can't trust him! What were you thinking?"

"Still right here, wonder boy," Draco motioned with his hand before he redressed his arms over his chest in a mirror perfect image of calm, leaning back against the windowsill with his ankles crossed in front of him. Harry's ferocious glare snapped to him only briefly before he grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, shaking her a little frantically to knock some sense into her. "You're going to get yourself hurt! You're going to…"

"Potter, your turn to get your hands off of her," Draco had righted himself from his lounging position, taking a single step closer but Harry had completely blocked him out as he shook Hermione in his hands, her curls flinging around wildly. "Hey!" Draco shouted loudly as he sent Harry stumbling back a few steps when his palm connected with his chest in a sharp shove. Draco took hold of Hermione's arm, steadying her with a narrowed distaste glowering his stare on Harry, "I said get your fucking hands off of her, Potter. She's not a bloody rag doll." Hermione brought her hands up to cover her mouth, those innocent eyes brimming with tears just threatening to spill as she turned her head to look up at Draco. How could he stand there looking like her savior with concern in his eyes when it would only take minutes before he was back to Jack Frost?

The scene almost knocked Harry back a couple more steps. First he gets the jaw dropping scribble she'd written stating that she was housing a refugee, ergo Malfoy, while she healed him followed by a quick, miss and love you all letter and as he comes to talk some sense into her brain, something he'd never thought he'd have to do, he stands watching Draco Malfoy intervene on Hermione's behalf. Even Malfoy wasn't this good of an actor. "Everyone is here. Ron, Ginny…" Draco rolled his eyes before removing his hand from Granger's arm to run his fingertips through his hair, smoothing it back away from his face. Of course the dream team was here, why else would Potter shut the door unless he was going to kill him? Well, maybe that was plan B. "I'll be in the kitchen." Harry offered an almost apologetic glance towards his friend before he slipped out of the door, firmly shutting it behind him.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding, dropping her hands from her face as she swallowed down her tears but her head snapped up to Draco as he pointed in her direction, tossing the fallen blanket back onto the bed all the while, "this isn't finished, Granger."

She lifted her chin defiantly, moving her head back to the door and presumably more of what was on the other side of it waiting for her, "I didn't expect otherwise."


	5. Toe to Toe

_Sorry, this chapter is kind of blah. I really wanted to get the next chapter up as soon as possible because it's oh so much fun! But I promise I'll go back and fine tune this chapter later. My awesome friend Tami made a picture video for the next chapter so I'll try to figure out how to get the link on here. I own nothing! XD_

She felt like she'd been summoned by the executioner. Hermione made her way out of her bedroom minutes later, pulling a sweatshirt over her head on the way, choosing modesty in the already rather sensitive subject at hand. She briefly remembered being questioned by reporters on why she wasn't scared to face Voldemort. She wanted so badly to admit that they wouldn't be either if they tried to date with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley as your best friends but she wasn't trying to date Malfoy. Well, she didn't know what she was doing with Malfoy but it wasn't dating. It was more of saving his pale arse and getting a little caught up along the way, or so she'd reason with herself as she made her way into the kitchen. Ron was slouching forward in a chair at her kitchen table when she made her way in, Harry gazing out the window half heartedly as Ginny ran over and flung her arms around Hermione's neck. "Wakey, wakey sleepy head! I made tea."

"This is why I love you," Hermione cracked a smile and moved to take a cup from the cabinet beside Harry when she paused suddenly. He hadn't told them what he walked in on, had he? They were too eager to see her, there was no way they knew what he'd just seen. Her eyes drifted to him but he turned to face Ron who was watching Hermione with those soft eyes, the same way he himself watched Ginny as she went about her normal activities like pouring tea for two in the morning but this wasn't Ginny and himself, this wasn't Ron and Hermione, this was _their _Hermione who was now pouring a second cup of tea he could only roll his eyes in realization for who it was for.

"Where's the wanker, anyways?" Ron grinned and tapped Harry on the arm, finding the situation more humorous that Malfoy finally came crawling to the Golden Trio for help from daddy. Hermione picked up her own cup, taking a sip before she turned to lean back on the counter top, crossing her ankles in front of her. "Probably repairing his clothes so he can get changed I imagine," her voice seemed duller than usual, almost passive like he hadn't been literally on top of her just minutes before but all Ron could do was laugh outright at the thought.

"Was he really that bad?" Ginny sat next to Ron at the table, elbow pressed on the smooth span of wood, chin propped up into her waiting palm as Hermione nodded gently.

"Yeah, Gin, it was awful."

"I would have let the ferret die," Ron's loopy grin slid as the classic Malfoy drawl sounded from the doorway, dressed in his mended attire from that hellish night, strutting inside like he belonged to be there. Why did he suddenly feel like _he_ needed to be near _her_ for support in this little bash fest?

"Good to know, Weasel, but I wouldn't ask you for help if my owls life depended on it."

What the hell was he doing?! Draco moved a crossed the room to her as she lifted the cup off of the counter, lifting it up for him to take. His eyes watched her silently, his mask secure and in place but she swore she saw his smirk flash into a small smile as he took the cup, turning to lean back on the counter beside her, taking a sip with little regard for her stupid friends chattering away this early in the morning. Hermione's eyes dropped to the floor, fighting the blush she felt stinging her cheeks. How could he act so calm? So unconcerned when she felt like her nerves were going to explode!

"Yeah but you'll ask, Hermione? Seems hypocritical, Malfoy," Ron spat out, feeling his jealousy start to rise at the small exchange between the two.

"More like collapsed in a heap of blood and guts on my doorstep, Ronald. Don't be dramatic. What was I supposed to do?"

"Thanks, Granger."

"Welcome. Drink your tea."

Draco rolled his eyes almost humored but none the less he took a small sip from his tea before setting the teacup down onto the counter top.

"I told you she'd be a great medi witch, didn't I Harry?" God bless Ginny Weasley. She was staring at the two of them slightly awestruck, like she was witnessing a miracle by the two of them standing in the same room let alone interacting so…well, almost sweetly was the only word she had to describe it. "Well anyways, enough of this Malfoy discussion, no offense…"

"None taken."

"…we just stopped by to make sure he hadn't chopped you up into little pieces by now but we have a heap of decorating to do still, isn't that right boys? You're still coming, yeah?"

Hermione offered Ginny a small glare only matched by the slightly less thrilled Draco's who had folded his arms over his chest, "that's just disgusting."

"Oh like you're above it, Malfoy," Ron rolled his eyes, bitterly averting his glare while Draco simply raised his brows, shrugging lightly as he tossed back, "want to find out? I'm feeling much better."

"Come on Harry, we'll talk with her tonight. You are coming still, yeah?" Placing her hand against the swell of her hip, Hermione sighed and nodded lightly to his question that he was probably too busy thinking of a snarky comment to shoot at Draco to notice his own sister had just asked a blink of an eye ago, "Yes, that's the plan."

After a fumble of awkward exchanges, Harry being the worst to function around, Hermione hugged her goodbyes and promises for a later hour. Draco remained at his perch still leaned back in his lounge, watching that weak smile Harry mustered on as Hermione hugged him, sighing as he touched her arm Draco was still quite aware of ripping off that very spot. "Weasel, She-Weasel, Potthead…" Draco half way nodded at their departures one by one but it was only Ron and Hermione that turned their heads to scowl at Malfoy for a brief moment. She pointed at him warningly as the front door shut behind them, leaving them both standing toe to toe.

"So Potter's throwing a bash, is that right?" Great, now he was giving her the third degree? Hermione tossed her arms up exhausted suddenly all over again, plopping down so very childlike in the chair Ron had just been occupying, staring off at nothing in particular as she began her long rant, "Harry is throwing a party as kind of a last chance for fun motivator, last chance at a night of freedom, basically. Everyone is invited but I doubt any of the Slytherins will come considering most, if not all of them, are throwing a party to start the war. So yes, Harry is throwing a get together that you are welcome to come but my best friend just walked in on you on top of me and I am currently trying to clear the rubble here so if you don't mind…no questions."

He watched her long tirade, watching the tired lines around her eyes, her flushed cheeks, messy curls from a long night in the sheets, and when she finally finished he lifted his hand out in diplomatic gesture, bowing lightly. "Done, love, but I won't be attending the rally for the troops. Not really my style if you catch my drift. Besides, I have a few things to attend to."

Hermione knitted her brow together, lifting her head in the most peculiar look but all she said was a quiet _oh_. "What?" He felt his own brow narrow, tilting his head to the side to decipher whatever it was she was thinking but she didn't respond, just kept staring at him like that, "What, Granger?" For the umpteenth time that day Hermione let herself sigh deeply, shrugging before she tossed her stray hair off of her shoulders, "I guess it just makes sense. I mean, you're almost 100% so why wouldn't you be off? Right?"

"I said I had a few things to do. It's not like I'm exactly safe just because I can walk." Was that hope of her face? Merlin, what the hell was this girl doing to him? Why was he even explaining himself to her? And all the questions he kept asking himself he still continued on, "Not like I won't be back but I can't guarantee I'm going to be in one functioning piece." Her coy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, standing upright as she moved a crossed the room. Her finger pointed out once more, wagging it dangerously close of his face as she stood up on the tips of her bare feet just to get a little more leverage over him, mocking her earlier position, "you will not make a habit of me saving your arse, Malfoy, do you hear me? Now…" with her hands settling back to her hips, she flicked her hair off of her shoulder as she turned on her heels, walking huffed out the kitchen doorway as she called, "…I'm going to get ready!"

Harry bloody freakentastic Potter just walked in on him milliseconds away from kissing the mudblood Granger half naked beneath him, he'd just sit and attempted in vain to be civil to keep the freaking muggle on his good graces, he'd shared a bed with her and he'd been the one who stopped her from leaving it, twice! And now, Merlin, now he was actually considering attending this ridiculous slop of an event. Draco kept telling himself that if he could just figure out why he was so drawn to her, understand her, figure out the one thing about her that he needed or wanted, he wasn't even sure what, then he could be done with this. Then he would know how to handle being around her, next to her, touching her…_fuck_. Slender digits combed back the disheveled golden locks, dragging the clouded grey depths to the ceiling, "See you there, Granger."


	6. Flash Flash Bang

It was a tedious process to get oneself ready for such an evening and Hermione left no challenge with her appearance go unnoted. It was nearly six in the evening before she made her way out. What a shame, almost, that she'd heard Draco disappear a good hour ago, sometime after she'd whipped together something to eat for the two of them and raced to finish getting dressed. Merlin, if he thought those old pair of shorts was enough to have him crawling on top of her, despite blood and pretenses alike, she was currently now adorned by thin layers of emerald material, hugging her curves as it flowed down her shapely legs to her slender ankles. Those dark curls tamed into large spirals, loosely tossed over her shoulders, blocking the view of the "X" ribbons of fabric tied to keep her dress held up. Beautiful jewelry, black pumps, and smoky makeup was all it took to transform Hermione into the lioness of Gryffindor for the night. Too bad he was missing a chance to see her like this, she was positive his expression would have made the hours it took well worth her while.

Making her way out onto the modest porch outside her parents house, Hermione slid down the steps with a strut she could only thank Malfoy for learning. A few quick glances later and she was gone is a spiral of black smoke twisting it's tendrils as it pulled her through to her destination. Luckily her hand caught firm hold of the apparation post pole, jerking her forward with just enough time to pull herself up. "It's about time!" Ginny was already reaching for Hermione's only support as she shook the mist from her head, groaning lightly as she tugged her down the street.

Hermione and Ginny nearly bounced in their steps dancing along the cobblestone walkway, their heels clicking loudly in the slight fog of the night. With the tension and weight of the war nearly nipping at their heels, Hermione found her the last chance bash as an escape for them all. Their animated talking and laughter filled the streets dimly illuminated by faint street posts but Ginny stilled her laughing to a minimum as they neared the Leaky Cauldron.

"Just for tonight I'm not going to ask why Harry wouldn't explain to me what you two were up to when he went to fetch you earlier but Hermione Granger…I expect details next time." Hermione playfully shoved her friend as she pressed open the door in a stream of music hit her senses. Turning her head she shouted back before disappearing with Ginny into the crowd, "there won't be a next time!"

"So you did sleep with him!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and settled herself at the bar to find a couple of drinks, nodding to Ginny as she trotted off to find the boys.

So far the evening had went off without a hitch. Hermione knew she'd already had way too much fire whiskey and it seemed that Ron wasn't all too displease at her friendliness towards anyone seated next to her. Grand certainly was enjoying herself, dancing around the bar, mingling back and forth, that dress leaving far too little to the imagination as far as he was concerned. She looked beautiful. His hands folded into the depths of his pants pockets, shoulder propped in the shadows of the staircase, watching from a safe distance as she flitted about but Draco could feel the stare boring into the side of his face. He was met with a sharp contrast of green, watching him watch her through the rims of his glasses. Draco watched as Harry slipped an arm around the youngest Weasley, Ron shrugging to Hermione as they crossed away through the room, Weasley looking much like a scolded puppy as he drug himself away.

"Looks to me like in the next 30 seconds Weasel is going to be finding his way through that crowd, presumably to find a way to attach himself to you for the remainder of the evening." Potter probably hadn't meant to give him the opportunity but Draco mentally noted to thank him later.

Snapping her head around, she stood face to face with the platinum peroxide blonde, a drink in his hand and that arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. "I thought you had things to attend to."

"I did and now I'm done."

Hermione's head turned, scanning the crowd and sure enough, Ronald was beginning his stand, smoothing his pants looking directly in her direction. Quickly averting her gaze back to Draco, her eyes narrowed as she lowered her voice. "And you suddenly care why, Malfoy?" That arrogant smirk slipped against his porcelain skin, settling his glass to his lips as he drained into his throat, burning a path in its wake. His hand lifted out flatly, cocking his head to the side while he set the glass onto the scarred bar top, "care to dance?" What other option did she have? For a brief moment Hermione closed her eyes in a heavy sigh. She let the song fill her ears, fast and strong, some muggle song she barely recognized as it washed over her. Right now, right here, Draco Malfoy and this song was her only hope. Promptly her hand fell into his hand, nodding once before opening her eyes to rest on him as he began pulling them into the crowd.

Draco moved like a snake, slipping by, people seeming to part for him alone as he lightly pulled her along behind him. He turned on his heel, her body inches from him as the song shifted. If someone had told her a nights fort ago that Draco Malfoy would be standing in the middle of a bash, asking her to dance to muggle music to escape the advances of Ronald Weasley, she would have laughed outright but it seemed the situation was in the flesh.

_Music starts, listen hot stuff, I'm in love…with this song so just hush_

Draco's hand slid against the bone of her hip, pulling her in against him in a slow sway. Hermione allowed herself to sway against him, finding that comfortable rhythm against his lithe body. Her hand slid the span of his chest, draping over his neck as her movements became bolder. Dancing was something she knew, and if he really thought he would win, tonight of all nights, at his little games then he was sorely mistaken. Her curves ticked against beats, rolling her body into him, mirroring his choice in faster steps. Those long curls twisted this way and that as she nodded her head to the beat, singing a few choice words of such a fitting song that he couldn't help but grin.

Draco stood their pleased with himself that the Weaselbee stood at the place they had just vacated looking downright murderous as he glared in their direction. Hermione spun in his arms, he back pressed his chest and he was barely aware of his hands running down the span of her exposed arms. This was so wrong. He had to get her out of his head and this…the feel of her nearly grinding against him was not helping. Hands against the small of her wrist, he lifted her arms above her head, dropping them at his neck as he ran his hands agonizingly slow down her sides, his fingertips brushing the curve of her breasts, along her ribcage, along the flat of her stomach. It was only a matter of time before Weasel lost his mind.

_Stop talk, talk, talking that blah, blah, blah _

His hands were burning into her, sliding against her body wherever they pleased. If she wasn't mistaken, she could have sworn that Draco was actually having fun, his face void of that sneer he always wore like a badge, lost in their dancing in such an inappropriate manner. Both were only vaguely aware of the support team of Harry and Ginny now comforting at Ron's side, watching them with wide, confused eyes. For the first time in months, Hermione looked happy to Harry and Ginny, how could they take that moment from her?

Hermione was laughing when she rolled to turn around against him, pointing at his chest as she sung out, "'Cause I know you don't care what my middle name it!" Draco tossed his hair back as he scoffed as she continued, "I want to be naked." "You're wasted," was his reply to continue her singing of lyrics much to her surprise of his knowledge. Had Draco really paid attention in muggle studies? Hermione was completely free, dancing against him, swaying around seductively as she lifted her hand and mocked the blah, blah, blah gesture in his face. It was almost a shame that the song has already begun smoothing into a new beat as Draco stilled unsure of his next move. Guess he hadn't thought this far ahead. "Jane."

"What did you just say?"

"Jane. It's your middle name."

She stood in the crowded dance floor, watching him in her flushed state but he simply just watched her back, silver meeting cinnamon before she responded, "Let's get out of here." A small nod from him was all that he needed.

"I'll get your cloak."

"I'll get a drink."

She had only been keeping her place warm at the bar for a good amount of hours. She puffed herself up telling herself that she had gave the party it's proper time requirement and now she felt as though her Cinderella heels beginning to expire. The pumpkin carriage was threatening to rot at any moment, beckoning her to run out the door with him until she could figure this rash decision out logically. Draco had already turned, ready to make his way to the back of the leaky cauldron when he heard her say those four words and he found himself stopping in his tracks, turning his head over his shoulder with a raise to a single platinum brow. Ever since he found his way upon Granger's doorstep a mere few days ago, she had shocked and surprised him more times then he'd like to admit. She stood there, her hands on her hips where his had just been, chin tilted upwards to address him and he realized he had no idea what her intentions were. If it was anyone else he'd swear that he was leaving for a night of shagging with some nameless face but she was no nameless face and she definitely had nothing in common to the girls he normally bed to rid a night of loneliness or conquest. His drawl was low, deeper than he had expected it as Draco motioned in a mock bow towards her, "whatever you say, love."

His hands settled deep into his pockets as he graced to the back of the racks. He had hand it to her, she had him completely on his toes for the first time in his life. He had no idea what to expect or if there was anything to expect and he was alright with that. Draco allowed himself to give her that small control as he drew his wand from his pocket, pointing it towards the pile of hanging material, "accio cloaks." Instinctively he lifted his hand, waiting for both of their covers from the crisp arm to jump towards his waiting hand but strangely enough, only his own met his fingers. Knitting his brow he suddenly couldn't remember her entering wearing one. How fitting.

By the time Draco made his way back through the crowd, Hermione looked rather perplexed as she stood in the heap of the Golden Trio with the she-weasel to boot. His cloak smoothed immaculately over his forearm; he moved to stand beside her, leaning round to grab his drink from the bar before up righting himself in his close distance near her frame. Hermione already had her drink in her hand, looking between the strange expressions on her idiot friends faces as she tossed the rest of the amber liquid down her throat. Draco followed her lead, tossing his own before he settled it next to hers on the bar, sliding his cloak from his arm to land back into his palm. Carefully he lifted it to cover round her shoulders and she turned her head to him in a silent question. He kept his eyes locked on hers, and she could have sworn it was his silent way of assuring her it would be alright. "Right, been fun. You ready, love?"

Ron's ears burned a shade Draco could only describe as purcrimple. Ron looked like he was ready to rip Draco apart with that one little word nearly sending him over the edge. Did Draco Malfoy just call Hermione Granger love? Is he really giving her his cloak? And he's going to walk her home? A home he's sleeping in? Bloody hell, they're playing house! Ron was looking wide eyed and desperate between Ginny and Harry, begging someone to see how wrong this all really was but they simply put on weak smiles, nodding their goodbyes as Hermione tugged Malfoy's cloak tighter around her shoulders. As they turned to leave, Ron watched as Malfoy slid his hand to the low curve of Hermione's back, guiding her forward towards the front door but Harry's hand was already on Ron's shoulder, Ginny's on Harry's forearm in her quiet comforting. "This isn't the time or place, mate."

Ron was nearly foaming at the mouth with his bitter snap back, "not the time or place, mate?! This is Malfoy were talking about! And she's been….she's been drinking!"

"And she's a big girl, Ronald Weasley, and she is not your girlfriend or have you not remembered?" The firely little red head had had just about enough. Her arms were now folded onto her chest, stamping her foot in spitting image of Mrs. Weasley. Hermione would never be aware of the tirade Ron went on after her departure, at least not for a few hours because now she was walking the street towards a safe appartion post, Draco's hand on her back.

They walked quietly, both entranced with their own thoughts as they maneuvered through a few lingering Hogwarts students who had milled out of Potter's precious bash. He kept his face neutral, feeling all of their eyes trail behind them, he could see the blinding white flashes of the photographers all waiting outside the Leaky Cauldron like it was the end of the war. They scampered quite lively when the unlikely pair strolled out into the streets, flocking behind and in front of them but Draco paid them no mind. This really wasn't what he needed. He turned sharply, walking them into a small alcove dimly lit by the faint street light hanging above them. Hermione turned to face him, and with a small smile his his hand settled back onto her back, her hand moving to grip hold of his forearm and in a flash of midnight black, they were gone from questioning looks and flashing lights.


	7. His or Hers?

_CHAPTER SPOILER: Ok, so I rated his M because I wanted to get to some more steamy scenes later on but I felt like this should really be an in the moment kind of chapter and a little less familiar. Next chapter is definitely steamy-ness! Let me know what you think. I own nothing! XD_

She felt her feet firmly connect with the wood planks of her porch so hard that it knocked her forward as her hands came up to steady herself against the hard confines of Draco's chest. His cloak threatened to fall from her shoulders before his hands caught it, helping herself stand upright, "thanks." She muttered quietly as she unlocked the front door moving into the house barely lit by a few choice lamps scattered around her parents modest home. Cerulean hues glanced around the street, finding it empty and desolate before he turned to enter behind her, closing the door quietly behind him in a gentle click.

Her petite frame slowly drug her steps through the confines of her room, stopping as she stood still before the drawn curtains keeping the quaint street lights from fully illuminating her. Draco followed her like a moth drawn to the flame, his feet stopping their journey just past her doorway, leaning back to rest his shoulder against the corner, arms folding a crossed his chest with a cock of his head as he watched her through pale lashes. He could admit, tonight something was rather undeniable in the energy between the two of them, and they had been dancing round and round with it all night. Idly her hands lifted to begin taking the jewelry adorning her ears off, tilting her head to the each side lightly to help her before she placed them down inside the red, velvet lined box resting on top of her drawer.

Against his better judgment, Draco felt his body straighten from the edge of the frame, his towering form in its usual predatory swagger carrying him gently to close the gap between them. Hermione turned her head in the slightest to observe him until there were only inches between them. She swore she could feel his warm breath brushing the side of her neck as he leaned forward, moving the slender digits up to lightly take hold of the tie of her dress in an "X" a crossed her exposed back. Her lids shuttered closed instinctively, a deep breath shaking between her lips as she inhaled. "You look beautiful tonight, "When she finally allowed herself to release the breath caught in her chest, Hermione felt the straps of her dress slide out of their hold, loosely trailing from their bound from the emerald garment.

She swore the electricity he was creating in the atmosphere was nearly bouncing off of her skin, tingling her nerves as she maneuvered to face him in all his close proximity. Hermione dared to meet his gaze, slowly tilting her head up to stare into the clouded storm that was watching her so carefully. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hand against the side of her face, his fingertips brushing into the soft curls of her hair at the base of her neck. "What are you doing?" Draco observed her question with a swipe of his thumb along the swell of her cheekbone, leaning down so his lips were only a hairsbreadth away from her own, "I told you that this wasn't done. I'm giving myself a chance not to be my father. Don't screw it up, Granger." Chocolate orbs locked into his own, her lips parting ready to question his every motive but his own lips were already on her, silencing her in a kiss.

She stood shell shocked, stiff and rigid with his lips upon her, firmly against her own, tempting her, teasing her. It was a kind of kiss she was unsure how to take, it wasn't like a kiss from Ron, simple and sweet, this was filled with angst, question, danger, and she swore poison. Draco Malfoy was poison or at the very least one very expensive drug and it was that very reason she felt her eyes drift shut, leaning up onto the tips of her toes to place her small hands against the sides of his aristocratic features. If she had expected her move to frighten him back, she was mistaken. Draco slid his spare hand around her waist, resting low and flat palmed at the small of her back as he drug her closer, flush up against his body.

"Draco…" his name rolled off her tongue like satin and he'd be damned if he didn't taste it this time. Hermione's slender arms slid around his neck, their kiss becoming something hungry and passionate as his tongue, anything but forked, was begging her own for entrance, moving to swipe a crossed her bottom lip. Her body melted into him, sighing out as he had all the granted welcoming he needed, pressing into her with his towering frame. She kissed him with everything that was left inside of her, all the anger she'd had over the past 6 years involving his name, all the confusion he'd left her with in the passing days, every unanswered question, all the lingering touches, everything…

Draco carefully removed his firm hold against her, shrugging the suit jacket from against his shoulders, feeling the material slide down his arms and down into a waiting hand. Her arms locked around his neck and he laid a strand of kisses down the curve of her neck, tasting her while tossing the offending garment still in his palm off to sprawl over the corner of her bed. Her fingers coiled around the collar of his shirt, tugging as she stepped back but damn him in those Quidditch skills, he so quickly swayed their stance, her calves brushing against the edge of her mattress and just that quickly she was falling back onto it. Chestnut curls framed her flushed expressions, her chest heaved deeply, eyes closed in her lust. The sight of her alone was so intense he was barely aware of his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her body, the mattress dipping under their weight as he crawled on top of her, holding his weight above her. Hermione slid herself back onto the mattress, drawing her legs beneath her as she rose up onto her knees letting Draco crawl his way back to her, raising to kneel in front of her before his lips were assaulting her once more.

This is wrong; this is so, so wrong. This is Malfoy! Hermione Granger, Lioness of Gryffindor was kneeling on her mattress with the Prince of Slytherin, his tongue dipping into the small dip of her collar bone, causing her to come undone with a passion she never knew existed within him. Merlin, a passion she never knew existed inside of herself. Draco's eyes were closed, his breath hard and ragged as he broke the kiss, hovering there at the hallow of her neck, trailing a hand to run down the curves of her waist before he dropped it down against her knee. That rich green material played into his fingertips, toying with it lightly in his grasp. Inch by agonizing inch he ran his hand up the swell of her knee, along the smooth confines of her thigh, brushing the material up higher and higher as he went. She thought she was going to die if he didn't do something soon and she heard herself whimper but still, his movements continued the slow climb.

Hermione's fingers steadied enough to slip the buttons through each adjourning slit of his shirt, running her hands back up the muscles of his chest, brushing the material off from his broad shoulders. Her hands guided it down his arms, Draco himself arching back to tug the shirts free, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. His upper body was completely bare to her touch and she took every advantage of running her hands over the inches and trails.

"Tell me you want this, Granger. Tell me you want _me_," his voice was dangerously low, drawled out lucidly. His hand was upon her hip down, thumb dipping against the outline of her bone, toying with the strap holding the thin piece of lace covering her together. "I want you in the worst ways, Granger. I want every part of you." His grip tightened on her hip, stilling her writhing underneath him in attempts to feel his touch further as his lips grazed every exposed patch of skin. "Every annoying, irritating, dirty, saint like part about you."His fingers made swift movement on unzipping her dress, loosening the grip of his arm a crossed her upper back, Draco shifted her effortlessly to yank the fabric down from her chest, letting it pool at her waist. She had to hand it to him; he was well skilled in this particular game he was playing so well. He knew she'd have no hope in answering while he had her eyes rolling back but that last little comment snapped her from her hazy cloud. Heavy lidded eyes opening sharply to observe him. There he was kneeling in front of her, platinum locks skewed and disheveled, shirt missing on the floor, heavy breath, watching her watch him as she drew leaned into him. "Prove it."

The time for sensual games and seductive tones was over. He felt a growl catch in his throat at her boldness, fingers twining around the band of lace and in one precise tug it tore directly in two. Hermione let out a small yelp, instinctively scooting back onto the bed further. One by one his shoes kicked off, and he moved back up the bed to finish removing the quite fitting shade of green material away from her body. Hermione's fingers twined in the back of his hair to aid him in his way back, her shaky fingers steadied as she tugged the buckle of his belt but neither of them seemed to hold the patience to concentrate on the tedious task at hand. His body moved over hers, supporting his weight as he leaned down into her, his mouth searching hers out in the fluttering street lights. Hermione was thankful for his warmth, her fully exposed body shivering under his touch but she couldn't keep the crimson blush from remaining solid a crossed her cheeks.

Slowly he moved his hand down her collar bone, tracing the swell of one particular breast. Lazily he ran his finger a crossed the peak, listening to her gasp as it continued its journey lower. This was maddening. Sure, she wasn't a virgin thanks to Ronald's eagerness but that was it, it was just Ron, and their moments together surely never felt like this. The pad of his finger parted her lips in one swift movement, biting down against the soft juncture of her neck before he slid it into her. She was unbelievable. Panting beneath him, completely wet and moaning his name as she rubbed her hips downward. He nearly lost all composure right there before he'd even really had her.

Draco swiped his thumb in a small circle round that sensitive pinpoint of nerves, relishing in the arch is caused her back. She had no idea what he was doing to her but she was sure she should stop him. She was sure this was illegal in one world or the other. All she saw was a pulsing white light, all she could feel was the incredible heat washing over her, and all she could hear was Draco muttering about her beauty in her ear and right then, right there, Hermione did want him and she wanted him in all of those same worst possible ways. Somewhere in the midst of her abandoned composure, Draco had slid out of his trousers and she could feel the length of him pressing against her thigh. Come what may, if he never looked her in the eye again, if he left without a single word, if the war started tomorrow, she'd still have this memory of the first time she ever felt true passion.

Her hands found their way to either side of his face, locking her heavy gaze to him, "I won't hurt you." She managed a smile in her fog as she whispered back, "I know." The word had barely left her lips as Draco arched inside of her, feeling her body curl off the bed. He felt like satin wrapped around molten steel, stretching her, leaving her breathless. "No one will ever hurt you…" his words ground out, his teeth clenched in concentration that was a fleeting battle when she was so god damn tight. She moaned his name when he began moving slowly inside of her, rocking his hips forward to meet her own, "ever." And as Draco Malfoy made love to her through the endless hours of the night, Draco reminded himself that come what may, her face would forever be burned into his eyes, her touch forever burned into his skin, and his words tonight, would forever be burned into his brain with the way she called his name with every response.


	8. What News Might Bring

_As much as I love keeping Draco and Hermione locked up in their doll house, I think it's time to let them spread their wings a little. Time for a little action! I own nothing. XD_

A mess of platinum tendrils splattered along her pillow, Draco face down on the bed, arm tossed out from her void. Her void? Stormy depths snapped open, narrowing at the intrusive light to take in the fact that she in fact, was not there. Like her, Draco was unsure how to deal with the morning after. Had it been any other woman he wouldn't have had to worry about such a trite thing because they would have already been gone but he still found a small irritated spike that she had been the one to flee first.

Rubbing the sleep from his groggy senses, Draco slid the cotton sheet around his waist, tucking it in to keep it loosely in place as he stretched in front of the window into the morning sunlight streaming through and warming his bare flesh. Briefly the white flash registered in his mind's eye but it wasn't until he parted lids to see the floating camera bobbing in front of the window. Stormy shades clouded a trance of navy at the bulb snapped to life only to dissipate, leaving nothing but dull dots in it's wake. Swiftly his hand shot out just in time to catch his wand firm in his grip. "Diffindo," his sleep induced voice still pointedly grit out, watching, with a small nod of approval to the nosy reporter standing on the side walk just before him, as the camera twisted this way and that, breaking in two before it scattered in a jumble of pieces onto the grass. Lifting his arms above his head, he slammed the curtains closed. If the bloody wanker could put that back together then he could have his stupid photo. By then he'd be back to Hogwarts and vaguely more safe then being out in the open like this but even then, it wouldn't last long.

His hair was matted this way and that, back fresh with her nail marks racing down his shoulders, looking thoroughly disheveled in his wake as he stepped out into the hallway, bare feet trailing him through Granger's _quaint_ home. Pale blue sheet wrapped loose enough to catch glimpse of the cut of muscle along the dip of his hip bones, porcelain skin stretched a crossed lithe muscles. The deep curve of his cheekbones, impossibly bright eyes, and his mouth permanently stapled into that trademark skirt, or so she thought. Merlin, he was far too attractive for his own good so Hermione simply turned her body away from him as he swaggered into the kitchen, lazily dragging his steps from the door way to the kitchen sink which she was currently facing, tea cup still in her hand and pretending that she was looking at something particularly more interesting than him and his sodding sheet.

Well this wasn't what he had planned, well, that is if he had actually found a plan suitable to deal with the morning after shagging Hermione Granger. He sought her out to ask her why she'd left the bed, to drag her back because suddenly being aware that she wasn't next to him was currently making him all too awake, to tell her he had to leave, that this couldn't happen, he was sorry, that he hated her, that he used her…He didn't know which of the following was what he meant to do but he knew that none of them deemed themselves worthy. After all, she was wearing his button down.

Standing there in the perfectly tailored shade of grey, offering a small tint of silver with subtle movements, sleeves rolled pristinely to her elbows (so Granger,) the long, shapely tan of her legs down to her bare feet, just standing there beside the pale yellow walls of her kitchen, that is, before she turned away. Her breath hitched in her throat as she watched him watching her out of the corner of her eye. Why was he staring at her like that? Merlin, he wasn't making this any easier.

She felt his hand brushing her hair off of her back, draping it over her shoulder as he stepped closer making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. When did he get so close? Slowly his hand slipped into the curls resting at the back of her head, softly gripping her long, currently tossed hair turn into his fingers as he tipped her head back. Hermione drew a sharp breath between parted tiers, pressing herself into the counter as she arched her neck back into his hand. Draco slowly pressed his hips into her, causing her eyes to drift shut briefly. This was happening too fast for her and her very by the book brain was going through a serious battle while he leaned into her in the faint morning light, his hand tangled in her hair, moving his mouth to the crescent shell of her ear. His breath was hot against her neck, feeling her skin rise as she involuntarily felt a shiver trace the length of her spine. Draco's hands were suddenly upon her hands, firmly planting them on either side of the sink, resting small, feather light kissed over the span of her shoulder blade as he eased her forward.

Finding his path back to her ear, his hand sent itself on the journey up the back of her thigh, pressing her legs apart to continue his torturous touch. Hermione's head fell forward as he moved his fingers just so to answer the question forming in his brain before he'd even voiced it. Slender fingertips ran an intricate pattern against that amazing nerve point, smirking to none but himself as she arched into his fingers. "Do you still want me, Granger?" Liquid velvet words, purring in her ear before pressing those two fingers inside of her. He was giving her no time to think! That bastard! Fingers curved upwards, he stroked into her, hissing into her ear, "Answer me."

She gave out a sharp cry as he shifted the palm of his hand to attack her clit as his fingers delved deeper into her warmth. "Never stopped…God, Draco," her voice was panting and Draco wasted no time giving the sheet a small tug, allowing it to filter down at his feet. Lazily he drew his hand up her stomach, taking the time to enjoy the feel of her bare breast kneading underneath his hand as he muttered, "Tell me your mine." His fingers coiled around the collar of his shirt, jerking it open in a small sprinkling of buttons pitter patting onto the tiles. Precise and perhaps a little haste, the shirt crumpled off her arms and was sent to match his sheet.

"Draco! Your shirt!"

"Tell me your mine, Granger," he was growling in her ear, drawing his hand from her only to wrap around himself as she shook her head no. His body still pressing against her, he moved his hand to tease the same spot he'd just left with something much more solid. His body truly was godly. "No?"

"No."

Yes, she'd given herself to him last night but she was not his. She'd be lying if she said she'd never pondered the twittering thought of being the one draped on Draco Malfoy's arm but the thought only made her angry. She had to fight her way into recognition next to Harry and she'd be damned if she would be lowered to one of Malfoy's weekend excursions. Her eyes were dark infused lust as she turned her head cross her shoulder to watch him toy with her, keeping her hands leveled with the counter, "Not yet."

Draco's growl echoed inside of her head as he slammed into her, slamming her hips forward into the ledge. She'd just denied him something far more intimate in his mind then sex and here he was still wanting her?! What kind of messed up game was Granger playing here? She'd told him no twice now and still as he began to slowly press just a bit deeper before he slid back, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist to block her from the brutal force of marble to hip bone, gripping the marble himself with his opposite. His strokes became rougher, harder, deeper into her and Hermione couldn't silence her breathy chanting of his name rolling off her tongue like a mantra. This was too much, watching her in the window glass reflection as she moaned like that, bent over the sink, tightening around him till he swore he couldn't breathe.

"You may not be mine, Granger, but you will cum for _me_," and all Hermione saw through her closed lids was the vision of silver shooting through her veins. Whatever the hell he did, she barely felt him ride out his own orgasm, falling against her back only weakly supported by this own grip on the ledge between her bent body and her arm. Never. In. His. Life. Never, not once, in his life had he felt something that intense. His body felt incredibly sensitive and exposed, his every nerve on fire as they attempted to regain some sort of composure.

Swallowing hard, his body forced itself to lift to his weight being supported by his own two feet, wincing at the incredible soreness as he easily shaped her body into turning to face him all too soon. "Come back to bed, Granger."

Hermione weakly folded her arms over her bare chest, "why should I do that?"

"Someone's feisty this morning, is that so, Love?" Scoffing, he rolled his eyes off to the corner of nowhere. Nothing could ever be simple with her, could it? She asked too many damn questions, all the damn time. It was grating! Worse than that, however, was the fact that as many questions as she insisted on, she never asked to most important one of all. "Because I have some things to attend to later."

Ah ha! There it was, Draco's way of saying 'I'm going out without you'. Why couldn't he just say it? Why did everything have to be some damn cryptic with him?! She felt like she was trying to find a lost tomb in the Sphinx with all his damn riddles! Still, he kept coming back, whatever the hell that meant. "Tell you what, Malfoy…I'm going to forgo the bed notion but in turn I will get you some tea and we'll have a bite to eat because seriously, I'll eat your arm in about twelve seconds."

Draco nearly laughed outright, hauling it back to an amused smirk before he added, "naked."

"Deal but you have to go get the damn paper. If I don't read something intellectual I think my head is going to explode." Her hands were wavering about animatedly as she moved a crossed the kitchen, completely oblivious that she was still completely nude and in full range of his roaming eyes. Snatching the sheet off the floor, he tugged it around his waist, shaking his head while making his way to the front door. Note to self: Granger gets a _little_ cranky when she's hungry. Draco tossed the thought out of his mind just as quickly as it entered, smacking himself mentally in the head at the realization that he wanted to remember something about her. This was getting out of control, but worse, he really had no intention of stopping it.

Slowly he pulled the door open, stepping out still clutching his sheet around his slender waist, Draco rose his hand to snatch the fluttering paper hiding behind the hanging violets on the edge of her porch. Tucking it beneath his arm, he drug his eyes numbly over the neighborhood as he turned back to retreat to the smell of bacon but he stopped stiffly and whipped his head back a degree. Shadow? Person? _Oh, Merlin._ The reporter tossed the gathered pieces of his camera into the air as he slipped on his own footing, falling flat onto his back at the sheer shock of Draco Malfoy glaring at him less than 8 feet away. Now that deserved a good laugh that died soon after he'd made his way back into the kitchen.

Hermione's finger darted out, pointing at his chest with her eyes still focused on the pot in front of her but she stated firmly, "Deal."

Tossing the newspaper on the table, Draco wracked his brain for…oh, right, the sheet. He shrugged dropping it off on the floor without concern, sitting down at the kitchen table beside The Daily Profit. "You going to bite my head in half if I read this, Granger?" Hermione shot him a glare in between tipping the scrambled eggs from the pan into a serving dish, "Do not crease my pages, Malfoy."

"You're neurotic."

"You're still a ferret."

"You want me."

"You know it."

With their plates soon filled, quietly eating before he opened to the middle of the newspaper, propping his feat up on the seat of the adjoin chair. His hand dipped the page down lightly as he bent to shove a forkful of eggs into his mouth when he noticed her glaring quite viciously at his hand. He quickly swallowed and straightened to paper as he set his fork down, "relax, Granger! See? No crease." The paper slapped out of his hand, her palm smacking it down in the middle of his plate with a rather gross feeling she noted. His brows knit with frustration, ready to scream at her absurd behavior before suggesting she take a stay at St. Mungos but his eyes fell to her hand quickly darting around to her side on the table. His hand shooed hers away, leaning forward to let his eyes take in just what exactly he was seeing.

**Malfoy aire spotted leaving with Golden girl Granger.**

And they both felt it when their heads turned to meet each other's stare. Busted.


	9. Revoked and Regret

_I know I'm being a slacker but I've got one wicked cold kicking my ass for the last few days. The next chapter will be up shortly as well as a phenomenal fan vid my good friend made for this fic to Clocks by Coldplay. I'll post it in my profile as soon as I get it up. Been debating whether or not I should twist these two back to Hogwarts or not. It was part of the original idea but now I can't quite decide. Thoughts?_

"_Playboy Malfoy is caught holding none other than Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter, leaving Potter's bash at The Leaky Cauldron. Sources say the couple looked pretty cozy all night long!"_ Sources? What sources?! Hermione picked the paper up from the table, bits of egg dropping off to the mashed plate below. Flashes of light flicked inside the picture frame as the image of Draco moving his hand from the low of her back to drape around her shoulders, holding her in against the side of his body while they made their way to the post. If it wasn't for the circumstances, she'd say it was a rather innocent but becoming none the less. "I have to go, Granger." With his fingers laced behind his head, Draco was pacing lightly over the tile.

Hermione could feel her irritation rising before she'd even moved her eyes from the page held outright in front of her to briefly acknowledge his statement, "You know where the door is." He whirled around to face her, throwing his arms up dramatically, "What do you want from me?! What? This, this thing is not a good thing, can't you see that?" Her anger slid into a state of shock. Here she was finding an annoyance in his constant disappearing act, the fact that he never told her where he went or what happened, and the fact that she had no idea what he was up to but in reality…in reality he couldn't be around her. "You're a fucking coward."

Her chin was suddenly sticking out defiantly, and crossing to her hips as she nodded her head, "that's right, Malfoy. You are a coward. I can help you but you're too proud to fully let me! " _You have no idea why. _His tone was flat and simple, "I'm leaving."

"Consider your chance revoked, Malfoy."

And just like that, Draco turned to get dressed…and he left.

It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders but Draco's chin was raised defiantly, bitter scowl etched into his face, lips pursed while he made his way up the inlayed brick walkway to the porch he was becoming much too comfortable walking up. He could almost feel his body relax as his head dropped, losing the mask like his coat was on fire when he moved inside, pressing the door shut with a snap. There was this horrible beating in his chest, his heart slamming into his rib cage like a wounded pigeon. How was one supposed to do this? How was a Malfoy supposed to say he was sorry? Explain it to her, explain everything, anything…explain all the things that she assumed he kept to save himself but this girl had him running in circles around his clarity that he was in fact, trying to protect her.

I came up to meet you

Tell you I'm sorry

Don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you

Tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart

"Granger?" Wasn't exactly the most suave way of starting the process but it was all he could muster after the night he'd already battled alone. Flicking the gold fringe from his eyes, he adjusted the silver lined orbs to the only spot he saw light aside from the faint glow illuminated from the kitchen but his brows quickly knit together. Parting his lips, a silent question formed on his expressions as Draco cocked his head at the lamp that had seemingly fallen from the coffee table, basin broken but bulb still fully intact. Leaning his body to the side, he peered into the open doorway of the kitchen, wand slowly dragging from his pocket, drawing between his fingertips and at the ready. Cabinet doors were pulled and pushed, her mother's China shattered on the floor in large piles, spilling off the tile onto the maple panels entering into her dining room. "Granger?!" He raised his voice a hair higher, the concern evident in his tone and all he could think was If this was some moody temper tantrum of hers, well, he'd bloody kill her…but if it wasn't. A spiraling, sinking feeling hit the bottom of Draco's stomach as he whipped around the corner of the hallway, yelling her name for the thrice time in the last five minutes but this time, well, this time his voice drenched sheer panic.

His shoes quickly ran the length, dropping his knee to slide the remainder, stopping just in time to clasp his hands onto her slumped shoulders and pull her forward in attempt to jar a response but Granger simply rolled forward, dropping her head onto his arm in a mass of curls and matted blood. She'd haunted him for the last 8 hours and anyone who had seen the sight of Hermione Granger that night would have bet their life that he'd be doomed to haunt her for the next 80 years. His heart was beating wildly. This couldn't be happening! So many years he'd wished her lot dead and here he was cradling her nearly lifeless body feeling the heat blur his vision.

She was seated where she'd fallen when he'd found her, sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, arms flung at either side; shoulders slumped into the corner to hold herself upright. Her clothes were spotted in large puddles of pooling blood, torn and shredded, and halfway torched. Long, vicious wounds carved down around her cheekbone, crossing the bridge of her nose, and traced along a single digit of the blackened hand print around her neck. He could see the brutal marks lining her arms, her chest…god…she looked like what he imagined he had, bruised and bloody, teetering somewhere in between reality and anything else. Draco drug her closer to his body, his arms tightly around her as he bobbled around with dead weight over top of his own. Weaving his hand into her hair, he rocked her against him, mumbling softly in her ear, "Granger…Merlin, Granger, come on…I need you to wake up for me. I need you…to…_fuck_, Granger, wake up!"

It was a fleeting sound but he heard a faint gurgle from her head hanging on his shoulder. As miniscule as it was…it was hope. He would have loved to point out that it was her turn to finally need help but he was too desperately searching her face for any signs of fight left in her as he pulled back sharply for examination but she remained unchanged. The small trail of crimson leaked a single bead out the corner of her mouth, sliding the length down to the curve of her chin. Draco felt like he was watching for the snitch, time stalling so drastically that the next few moments of his life would soon become a blur. He was barely aware of how quickly his hand shot out to grab hold of her jaw, waiting for her to wince in pain before pressing his thumb into her cheek. Blood oozed from her mouth as he leaned her onto him, holding her in against his body, rocking her softly more for his own comfort then her own. Later, he was sure he'd find the irritation of ruining such a nice shirt but for now it was better than letting her choke on her own blood. No, that was a lie and one doesn't lie in a crisis, right? Or lie your arse off in a crisis? Which one of those was it? Either way, he had two options for the next time he looked at that shirt: The shirt he wore the night he saved Hermione Granger's life, or, The shirt he wore the night he got Hermione Granger murdered.

Hermione's house was in shambles yet it barely compared to her at the moment. "Come on, Granger. Stay with me."

Her voice was impossibly dark, low and strained, gritting between clenched teeth, "they want…got to go." Draco didn't need to hear anymore and he shushed her softly. Leave it to Granger to use what little energy she has left to explain something. Draco did the only thing he could think of. He shifted his weight to his feet, scooping his arm beneath the bend of her knees to lift her up into his arms. Draco closed his eyes, envisioning the one place he knew they could go at a time like this, or at least she could. In a loud snap, their bodies tightly compacted together, air pressing into his flesh while he still tried in vain to shift her just right to keep her head upright and slumped into the crook of his neck. Time was ticking like a bomb in his ear, his fuse taking small shallow breaths, her lungs wheezing as he made contact with solid ground, his feet taking towards a sprint, feeling her cold breath brushing the length of his neck.

Black tendrils of smoke danced behind him, leaving his hints of apparation behind, clearing into the small grass swaying from his abrupt movements. The awkwardly standing _home_ became closer and closer into view, jumping the narrow staircase two stairs at a time, listening to them groan under his weights intrusion upon them. Warm liquid raced down his chest, pooling near the collar before it bled down. His eyes screwed shut in a blind panic as he stomped his foot, as politely as possible considering, against the peeling paint along the weathered wood door. His own breath was hissing between his teeth, hues snapping up wildly as the small bug dancing in the lantern above his head zapped it's light down onto them. Growling out, Draco kicked the door once again, slightly harder just for added measure, "open the bloody door, Weasley!"

Arthur Weasley pulled the door open a mere foot and a half, a look of nervousness fleeting from his face at the realization of Hermione lying battered against his chest. Arthur stood slack jawed, holding the door to shield the many broad sitting amongst themselves in the sitting room. "Oh my word," Mr. Weasley gasped out, barely feeling his wife's hand tug his own off of the door ledge, shooing it off in her normal flighty mood. "Oh my word, what dear? Oh my…Oh Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley was far more animated in her complete loss for understanding to how this could have happened. "Just help her."


	10. Science and Progress

_As promised the fan vid is in my profile, and again, no copyright intended with anything I write or post. There are a couple different people used for Draco and Hermione but I think it came out pretty well! Anyhow, enjoy!_

Mrs. Weasley nodded to herself more than the battered mess in front of her or her husband who was already backing away from the door, holding his hand out in a false grip, like he was actually tugging Draco into the house as he backed away with quickened steps rushing through the entrance hallway and disappearing behind the nearest corner but Draco still remained at the doorway, Hermione against his chest with much more deliberate steps carrying him inside. "The guest room, Draco…quickly now." On any other occasion he would have found humor that the woman with more kids then she could count on one hand had a room to spare but time was moving to slow he barely had time to recognize his face dropping to Hermione's, watching her as he made his way through the hallway, never noticing as wonder boy rose from his chair, Ginny jumping up with her hand gripping her brothers arm in utter distress. He was sure he'd seen them as he attempted to take in his surroundings but really, all he saw was _her_, limp in his arms in his way into the small bedroom with not much more than a single bed propped in its corner for him to lightly lay her upon.

_You don't know how lovely you are._

Trembling hands pushed her matted hair away from her face, sucking his lower lip into his mouth to keep himself from screaming out in injustice. Harry was the first to round to corner, the she-weasel bracing her hands on the doorframe as she stuck her head inside.

_I had to find you, tell you I need you._

_Tell you I set you apart._

Mrs. Weasley had emerged with a wet towel, shooing them off with a repeating _out, out, out. _Her attention turned to Draco, hand coming to rest on his shoulder as he turned his face up towards hers. This wasn't the boy tailing in his father's shadow…this boy looked on the verge of breaking and from what she could see; Draco wasn't physically injured in the least.

Nobody said it'd be easy.

It's such a shame for us to part.

No one ever said it would be this hard…

Her touch felt far too righteous on his skin, tearing away his eyes that were blurring his vision as he sharply stood, trying to steady his pulsing veins as he smoothed his fingers through his disheveled hair, running a hand along his mouth now smeared with dirt sweat and tears while making his way into the hall way, closing his eyes to block out the sound of the door snapping closed behind him.

_Questions of science, science and progress,_

_Do not speak as loud as my heart._

Draco Malfoy was sitting in a trance, slumped in an overstuffed arm chair propped in no fashion by the doorway to the hall and Ginny realized she had never seen him loose his hard composure. His straight posture, arrogant swagger, distant and cold demeanor was replaced by what she could only assume was the real Malfoy. His ankle rested awkwardly on his knee, tapping his foot in the air nervously with his chin resting on the back of his knuckles, gazing off at the tattered floorboards beside his feet. Harry's head was in his hands, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose over and over again while Ron looked downright livid, angry at everything, anything, and nothing at all, wanting the answers to justify this all in his mind. Fred and George exchanged glances to each member of the room, including Mr. Weasley slouched in his own arm chair paling at the face, before they'd glance back to each other with a small grimace.

_Pulling your puzzles apart._

Hermione's screams were echoing through the entirety of the house, rising and falling with a visible shudder through the room. Draco's eyes screwed tightly together. This was unbearable! Three hours of listening to her cry and wale in the pain he was sure was excruciating. His hand covered his face in attempt to block out the horrible rhythm of her heart still thudding against his chest but he just couldn't sit here any longer. Not with their stares. Not with her screams breaking a horrible snap of volume in his ear.

Don't _tell me you love me._

_Come back and haunt me._

Draco all but leaped out of the chair, ripping his body to a new angle as he stalked towards the kitchen, tossing the weak, half screened door leading into the yard out of his way all the while. Hinges creaked behind him, hearing the door bounce off the frame while he continued down into the span of grass, slowing as he met the weathered wood of Weasley's shed, slamming his fists into the grain as his forehead fell against it between.

No one ever said it would be so hard.

How could he have let this happen? He knew if he stayed it would only be a death sentence for her in one way or another. The second her image took a second play in his mind's eye he should have run and run far, let her hate him, keep her safe…like he'd promised. Had they even meant to kill her? Had they wanted him to find her like this? Watch her suffer? Watch her die? Or had they simply not been able to do it? Granger was, well, Granger wasn't an easy opponent. Did they leave her expecting she would die? This was entirely his fault. He had no idea how long he'd found solitude slamming his fists into the shed wall with his scattered thoughts leaving him growling out into the still of the night, the faint sound of rustling grass and the groan of the door pushing open left the only other consoling sound around.

"Malfoy…" It sounded so distant even coming out of his mouth but Harry tried again, a bit louder this time, "Malfoy."

Draco pulled his body from the wood blanks, turning to face Potter in the dim glow illuminating his skin from the open door. "She's asking for you." Potter stated it so simply, so cautious but he wasn't sure if it was for Harry or himself. Dropping his head, Draco started back through the trail he'd made on his way out, dragging himself up the stairs with his hands stuffed low into his pant pockets but he stilled momentarily at the door frame, tossing back over his shoulder before quickly making his way through the miniature twist and turns of the Weasley maze back to Granger's bedside, "Thanks, Potter."

Well go ahead; give Potter to gold medal for his act in…whatever the hell that was. Draco didn't care, he could have it, and fact was that he was the one pulling the wooden chair up to seat himself beside Hermione who was currently still bruised and bandaged, sheet half thrown over her sweat sheeted body in the closed spare bedroom of the Weasley house. The dim lamp a crossed the room barely allowed him to see her face but it was enough as he dropped his elbows down onto his knees, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. "I'll kill them…for this," he couldn't handle to look at her as he mumbled the words to her, pausing in a dragging inhale of breath before he continued, "every last one of them."

Her lips curved into a faint smile, her fragile hand lifting from the bed to hold out towards his face, trying to close the distance but finding it too great to climb alone. His eyes darted nervously to her hand, he half expected her to punch him for leaving her in such a vulnerable spot but he carefully took it in his own, leaning forward to hold it to his mouth with either hand, pressing his lips softly to the back of her hand. "Do you still want me, Malfoy?" Her voice was scraping at the back of her throat, dry and hoarse from her screams but she stretched her fingertips to brush the side of his cheek none the less. Why wouldn't he look at her? He kept staring at the edge of the bed where his knees were pressing in, even as he scoffed out a surprised, "never stopped," to her. "Tell me your mine."

Now that got his attention! The storm flashed a line of silver lightening through his eyes as they focused on her, trying to take in her words but finding them impossible to hear, shaking his head to her with a small confession, "No. I will only hurt you. I'll only succeed in getting you killed." She was Harry Potter's best friend, enemy number one to the darkest wizard of all time, being in life threatening situations was part of her job description already! Hermione didn't yell, she didn't fume like she had earlier when he told her he was leaving; she simply smiled to herself, rolling her head to face the wall and rid the throbbing pinch in her neck, "You already promised you wouldn't."

She was far too bright for her own good. She'd been dozing in and out of reality when he'd said it…how was he supposed to know she'd keep mental log of it? Still, it tugged at the single corner of his mouth, an almost mused smirk playing lightly as he dropped his head once more, "you got me, Granger. We can deal out the consequences later." Her hand was adding weight in his own, her arm growing weak at its out held length as her face screwed together in deliberately drawn out breaths to calm the war raging inside of her, "this isn't over is it?" The pain still wracking her body? No. The death attempts on her life, or his for that matter, if he stayed by her side? No. All Draco could do was lightly shake his head, resting her hand down against her stomach while he leaned over her from his position in the chair, "it's going to be a hell of a night, Granger." Carefully he stroked her hair, watching her attempt to fall back into a comfortable state of sleep from his position over her.

Mrs. Weasley stood with her back nearly brushing the changing wall blocking her view from her patient and her visitor but not from their voices trailing into her motherly ear. She'd be lying if she hadn't said her first instinct upon seeing the two of them this evening was to assume that somehow Draco was at fault. It didn't sound like she had been far from accurate. A small vile rested in her grip as she lifted her hand to her heart as she heard Hermione's breath become shallow in her slumber followed shortly by Draco's softened tone, almost lost in the walls of the room, "but I'll be right here."


	11. Motherly Advice

_More promises…haha, but I do promise to get them out of the house dealing with the recovery soon and get back to the action. Still own nothing but hope you guys enjoy! Thanks to everyone who has left me such awesome comments. I was getting ready to put the story on hold for awhile but I'll definitely keep on it now. XD_

Draco calmly made his way out of the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he made his way back through the hallway but Ron stopped him before he could venture any farther. "Oy, Malfoy!" _Great _"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Really, Weasley, as much as I'd love to play a game of witty banter and comebacks, it's been a long night. Can we just skip to the part where you try to hit me and I walk away?" He tossed his arms down to his side, slipping his hands into his pockets standing there before him with a slump in his shoulders. Harry stepped from inside the living room and Draco wondered how anyone ever had a private moment in this place but to his shock, Potter set his hand against Ron's shoulder. "Come on, Ron. This isn't the time. Hermione is still…" with his voice trailing off, Ron shrugged Harry's hand away like it was poison, his anger evident in each fine wrinkle of his scowl. "No! That's the point, Harry! She's been our best friend for six years and this tosser gets to stay by her side? Hell! It's probably his bloody fault! He probably did this!"

"Ron! So help me Merlin if you wake Hermione up because you can't listen…"

Again Ron's voice took dominance, waving Harry's off in trailing fashion as he continued, this time directing his rant towards Draco who stood there with a raise in his brow, "You don't deserve to be anywhere near her, Malfoy! You don't even know her!" Malfoy just smirked that low, dangerous smirk that had his steps crossing up to face off against the steaming red head standing in his way. "I don't know anything about _her_ do I, Weasley?" A distant voice shouted out from the living space, "Which one of us are you referring to, Malfoy? Lot of Weasley's to choose from!" Mr. Weasley swatted Fred in the back of his head from his position behind the back of the sofa, all three of them listening quite intently to the feud beginning to rise. A brief bare of teeth to the lack luster humor of the overgrown twin, Draco's tongue continued on to roll any mention of her off his tongue, watching Ron's expressions closely while he ticked through his low growl, "I know she can't wear socks to bed or she'll kick all bleeding night long but she insists on having the blanket tucked underneath her feet. I know what it feels like to wake up next to her in the morning. I know what it feels like to hate her, to hold her, to want to protect her and hurt her all at the same time. I know she's good, and pure, and sarcastic…and she's a complete pain in the ass when she's hungry." Each word out of his mouth was another saw of the teethed knife tearing its way down the middle of Ron's heart. Malfoy was standing their looking like the storm was just harboring behind the surface, filling his head with images of Hermione curled up next to him through the night. It was enough to make him sick.

"And _I_ know that I never gave a damn about what you two thought of me in the first place so I don't know why you're expecting me to now. The only reason I'm here is for her. Now, if you're not going to try your luck, I'd really fancy some tea about now so I'll be off." Draco shot Potter a quick glance, too exhausted to even attempt to decipher his bazaar behavior these last few days. Maybe he had finally succeeded in causing Harry Potter, the glorious savior, into his brain snapping like a twig. There was nothing he could do but silently kick himself for getting in a situation where he was forced to share space with the two of them in the first place. Finding his way through the long room, Draco flicked his wrist precisely, watching the tea kettle fill beneath the faucet, tea leaves dancing inside on the way to the stove already a top with blue flame. A small groan escaped parted lips as he lowered himself into a chair, sighing at the strain his muscles where inflicting just as Mrs. Weasley slowly ducked inside the opposite door.

"Ah, Draco…my dear boy. Might we have a word?" Didn't really think he had much choice considering it was her hospitality that allowed him to remain near. He offered his hand out to no particular empty chair and she obliged at the politeness before, and oh so unlady like, plopping a crossed from him, resting her folded hands on the table."I need to know what else I should be expecting here, Draco. I've done all I can. An unforgivable, am I correct?" She spoke to him so easily, so caring and it caused a severe unease in his body. He knew he hadn't deserved it.

"Yes," was all Draco managed, watching the teapot cautiously, and feeling like he would jump out of his skin at any movement that startled him.

"What's happening?"

"Aftershocks…" Her eyes opened widely, like such a statement was unnatural and a lie. "If she was hit by a quite powerful one, she'll feel it for hours, days, on and off like…I don't know, labor pains." What? It was the only thing he could possibly think the woman would understand. "Except opposite with the timing. They'll stop…but there is nothing I can do."

"I am so sorry, Draco," her voice was so soft, so comforting in the silence his voice had died into. "I told my very son that loving Hermione Granger was not an easy road."

"I don't love her." Draco turned his head back to the kettle, finally growing impatient as he rose to his feet, stalking over to snatch it from the stove, _accio_-ing a teacup while he extinguished the flame. Mrs. Weasley simply laughed at his curt response, watching him pour himself a glass of tea but stifled it down when he set it in front of her own spot at the table. Draco kept his back to her while he retrieved his own tea but she continued anyways, "Oh my dear boy, yes, yes you do."

"I can't."

"But you do."

"I will get her murdered, one way or another. I can't care about her," Draco carefully sat himself back into his chair, holding his cup with either hand before his mouth. "She's well aware of that, dear. Never stopped her from keeping close with Harry or Ronald," Her eyes seemed to sparkle when she spoke of those that she loved, "In fact, I believe it has pushed them together. The question is, Draco, what are you going to do?" Draco's head shot up suddenly, eyeing off past her shoulder to the trio that had just made their way unexpectedly into the kitchen. Ginny Weasley was leading Potter and Ron in behind her, the three of them looking rather bewildered and unsure of their next steps from just past the opening. Draco kept their stare, Mrs. Weasley angled to face all four of them from her seat at the table but Draco kept his tone solid and straight, no hesitation, no question, no room for error or debate…."I have to kill my father. I have to kill Lucius Malfoy."

And for the first time in the Weasley house when the word murder was mentioned, no one shed a single protest as Hermione's distant screaming began to grow in volume. Mrs. Weasley shot Draco a pleading look, completely out of her element. A mother of this many children was ready for anything but this…this just wasn't right for any person to deal with. Draco stood from his chair; tea abandoned as he left the same was Mrs. Weasley had entered. Ron was on the verge of lunging into a race to beat Malfoy into her room when his mother stood abruptly, pointing to her nearly three children, "now, the lot of you are to go to sleep. Do you hear me?"

"But Hermione is…"

"But nothing Ronald Weasley! Have you ever been hit with the _crucio_ curse? No? I thought not. Then, since you are no use to Hermione by standing there gawking at her like she's been petrified all over again, it's off to bed." She turned her attention to her son, lowering her voice only intended for him, "This is one time you have to think what is best for her and not for us, son."With Hermione's screams dulling off, most likely from the comforting hand of Malfoy, Ron frowned deeply, stomping up the stairs to sulk in his room alone. "Do you think he'll actually do it? I mean, do you really think he has it in him to kill his own father?" Ginny slid her small hand into Harry's, shifting to face him with a tilt of her chin. Pressing his glasses higher atop the bridge of his nose, he sighed audibly, "Yes, Gin…I actually think he does."


	12. Nightmares

_Sorry this is kind of a random chapter but as for the dream sequence…it jumps back and forth between Draco's dream and Hermione's. The dreams are in italics and I underlined a him or a her in each paragraph to confirm who each separate dream belonged to. Hopefully it came out alright because I'm a little cracked out on cold medicine so I can breathe again! XD Thank you to Molly for the new fan vid! Here's the link if you want to check it out: _.com/watch?v=BJvBmPrd04c

"It's his father, Harry, and while Lucius may be an awful man, he is still his flesh and blood. It would take a pretty strong bond or break for that to happen." Molly had a point but Ginny turned her chocolate eyes onto her mother as she spoke, "no, I think Harry is right, mum. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to kill Harry…why would his father be any different?" The unsettling realizations and thoughts of what information they were privy to did not make for an easy rest. Hermione's glass shattering screams screeched through the house nearly hourly, causing the inhabitants to jolt awake in bed and try to console themselves back to sleep in her wailing, knowing that Draco was downstairs beside her. Most, if not all of them, lay awake unlike the sobbing died down and began to trail into a peaceful quiet only to be sharply woken again in a few hours or so. Draco remained by her side through the agonizing ordeal both for he and herself. The sheets were soaked with her sweat and Draco spent most of the night walking back and forth to refill a clean water basin, dabbing the cold water along her forehead. Even in her battered state, he couldn't help but find the beauty in the curves of her body as he ran the towel along them. Each dip and bend of soft skin, thick with sin, followed by another swell or slide. Once and awhile Draco dabbed away her blood, re-bandaging wounds she'd tear when jolting awake from the pain so suddenly ripping through her all over again. They were getting more spread out, seemingly dulling in intensity while he watched her carefully. He'd love to tell himself he was only repaying to tedious favor she'd given him, and being the annoying bint that she was she never once held it above his head for gratitude, but he knew that'd be a lie. The truth was, Draco felt responsible for her suffering and all he wanted to do was see that fire back in her eyes, challenging him, touching him, smiling…this was happening too fast.

Potter had ventured down twice now, offering to relieve Draco but he'd quietly declined, never letting his eyes leave Hermione who was lying on the bed in her bra and underwear, dirtied sheet tangled around her legs. Even Weasley had found his way awkwardly stepping into the room to ask how she was fairing and when he expected this to stop. Draco had merely answered a short, "give her the night," and moved to get another clean bandage at the sight of blood soaking through the gauze in a sickly contrast of crimson on stark white. The night dragged on and Draco had finally allowed Harry the trade off, sending himself out for a bit of fresh air. Granger's scent was still ingrained inside his nose, her touch on his skin…he just needed a spout of distance.

The minutes passed far too quickly as he leaned his back against the wood siding of the back porch, foot propped back against the wall as he pulled the half lit cigarette from between his lips, pursing them to the side to exhale a line of silver spirals of smoke off into the night. All he could do was pray to a God that he didn't believe in that this would be over soon, that her suffering would end and he could get this wave of guilt washed clean from his hands. "Nasty habit, son," Arthur Weasley stepped out onto the porch, pipe in hand and his wand in the other. Draco watched him briefly, moving cerulean hues down to his own tobacco with a small nod, moving forefinger and thumb back to his lips. He briefly watched as the embers brightened, charring away the paper in a slow drag. "You hear what they say about smoking…if it doesn't kill you the Malfoy's will." His voice sounded tired, weak of fight and malice, but Arthur chucked softly at his attempt to force out a light to the mood. Each minute that ticked by was another moment she could wake up in pain and he wasn't there to take it away but he tried in vain to stay away for just a few minutes longer. This was driving his mad.

"Never been one to call your father a friend, Draco, but in a few short hours it seems it is your mother I've missed out in bettering my relationship with," Draco turned his head from the filtering ash to better address the man in front of him, "What you're doing, son, with Hermione, is the kindness that makes you your mother's son. And as alone as you may feel in this, right now, remember…you have her."

"It's funny," Arthur moved his wand to the bowl of his pipe, a small orange flame ticking the dried tobacco as he drew the smoke into his mouth, puffing on it with his eyes glancing sideways to Lucius's only aire. "I keep thinking that I was Granger's only hope at giving up that ridiculous untouchable, good two shoes act. You know, get her to loosen up and stop living in Potter's shadow. Then I realized that maybe it was because I wanted her to live in mine which made me discover that that just wouldn't do. She's too damn stubborn." Arthur smiled as he lowered his pipe into his knitted vest pocket listening as Draco rationalized his thoughts out loud. The poor kid probably didn't know what it was like to have a father to talk to…not unlike Harry.

"I wanted her next to me, so I could keep her from harm, protect her, just be near her presence," Draco sighed, flicking the butt of his cigarette off into the tall and overgrown bushes, "boiled down to she's my only hope…to not become what I've been destined and raised to be. To survive this."

"That's a dark thought, son."

"I just had to stop a woman I've hated for 6 long years from choking on her own blood. I'd say the dark times are only just beginning."

Draco paid Mr. Weasley a short goodbye a short time after, anxious to retreat back to Granger's side. Bags had settled around Potter's eyes when he quietly made his way into the room, noting the solemn expression on his face as he rose to his feet, lowering his voice to an almost hush of words, "she's been asleep for about ten minutes. I'll be upstairs if she needs anything." He was careful not to say "if you" and start a long strain of questions when all he wanted was a few more hours of sleep and closing the door behind him on Malfoy's blank expression, he ventured up the long twist of stairs to do just that.

"Draco…" her voice sounded in his head like a bell, rushing to her side to brace his hands on either side of her face softly, "hey, shh…we'll talk in the morning. You need sleep." This was the second time she'd attempted an actually conversation aside from her protests to the pain and much to his attempt to get her to remain quiet, she shook her head softly, wincing as she attempted to sit up and forward, "lay with me, Malfoy.," He simply stared at her, debating the gravity of it in his head before she added, "now, or I might seriously reconsider giving you your chance back." His head dotted to the side, glaring at her lightly at the awful flashback she'd just given him. How could he deny her that? One by one he removed his shoes, leaving them at the edge of the bed with his socks and folded shirt still smeared with dried blood. He took his time maneuvering up the bed, trying not to jar her body like a porcelain doll teetering on the edge, coming to rest beside her body now curled up on her side. Slender fingers pulled the sheet up to cover their conjoined bodies, slipping his arm beneath her head outstretch just enough to feel her fingers curl into his own.

It didn't take long for her breathing beating against his chest to lull him into a sleep like state, waking abruptly with every small strand of convulsions and weak whimpering. His hands smoothed down her hair, fingertips encircling the muscles contracting painfully, massaging the small aftershocks away from her smooth skin, "I'm right here, Hermione…I'm right here." And he was, holding her in against him while they slipped under reality.

_Her heels clicked along the corridor, beckoning __him__, calling him as he followed after her. His vision was hazy, trying to fight the clouds out of his eyes as he swerved this way and that, chasing the length of hills and bends into the large manor, screaming a warning in his head as she delicately entered the Death Eaters own version of Potter's bash flashing in his head._

_ The dark mark stretched above __her__ head, calling into the sky but all she could do was force her fingertips to stretch out, let them know she was alive, she was still fighting, that she wasn't dead, not yet anyways. It was more then she'd ever wish upon even her worst enemy…well no, Voldemort could suffer but considering that her former number one enemy on Hogwarts grounds was curled up beside her, well, she just couldn't fathom wishing such a thing upon him. _

_ She shouldn't be here; she shouldn't be near these people! She should be home safe with __himself__, with Potter even, as long as it was anywhere but here. Gold sparkled off the floors, masks hindering his close watch of her as he pushed his way through the crowd, trying to keep up but running in circles. He felt drunk, disoriented, drugged and simply lost. He couldn't just yell her name or they'd find her, they'd kill her. What would possess her to be here?! How had she known where he'd left to that night…?_

_ Bellatrix ran the length of her hallway, stopping in the same spot Draco had when he'd discovered __her__ with a line of black blurs behind her, concocting that wicked grin as she toyed with her wand, toyed with her mind. There were flashes of mayhem, flashes of destruction and injustice bouncing around in her head as she shook her body this way and that, hoping to jolt awake and be away from her personal memories that landed her here in the first place._

_ Sequins, feathers, and lace draped each curve and flow of body, dancing like puppets on a wire as he chased her, never getting farther then she'd allow __him__. That seemed fitting. Bracing his hand against the railing, his feet slid down the remainder of stairs, gritting his teeth that no matter how close he got, she slipped further away. He wanted to call out to her, reach out to her but she was too far for his desperate hand and just as he felt her fingertips brush against his, so close to full contact, he found himself back at square one. He was walking back through the entrance of the masquerade ball full of all that goes bump in the night._

_ Each painful connection, each bone shattering curse, each brutal moment they inflicted upon her came flooding back full force, streaming so fast she was afraid the barrier of her mind would snap and she'd be forced to relive them every moment of her life…and then she saw it, the sickly green light bursting from the end of Bellatrix's wand, slamming into her neck and causing her to fly backwards. Hermione's back made sharp contact with the table at the end of her hall, slumping to the ground as her body acted on its own will. Shaking uncontrollably, her mind began to fuzz as a searing white pain took its hold over her._

It was Draco's body that twitched first, his arm draped along her waist jumping off her body while he bolted upright. Fine moisture had appeared on his skin, eyes open wide to the sun peaking over the horizon just outside the windows break. Hermione's body was already shaking, screaming out at she twitched awake, hazelnut hues startled open and contracting her pupils brutally from her dream. His attention snapped to her quickly, hers locked onto his already as she parted her lips slowly, trying to find the comparison. Had he dreamt it to? Did he know? Did she know? "I'm sorry…that I wasn't there," His voice was so soft that she nearly missed it, feeling her racing heart beat calming at the realization that he was actually there, that she was safe…for now.

"I know."

He sighed dramatically, lifting his hands to fun through the strands of peroxide gold, centering his attention to the way the morning glow gave a little coloring to her flushed skin, "Don't ever do that to me again."


	13. Figured You Out

_Next chapter isn't entirely smut but I promise it picks up right where it left off. Alas, I still own nothing but enjoy!_

It took one long week before Granger was closing around 100% and Draco remained by her side for the entirety. Every night he'd try to find a comfortable position beside her awkwardly resting body, holding her to him as she slept away the havoc her body had went through. Draco rarely ventured outside of the room and he found it took a good amount of restraint to decline the many offers a day to relieve him although occasionally agreeing to find a brief moment of solitude. His words were kept short and to the point with the inhabitants looming around him for the most part but confrontations with Weasley, or so he assumed, just came with the package.

"I'm not a monster, Weasley," Draco scoffed back like it caused him too much wasted energy to actually roll his eyes. He took a bite of his toast, dryly addressing the raving lunatic in front of him.

"Yes you are a monster! You're a Death Eater! They make instructional books on how to protect yourself _against _Death Eaters!" Draco highly doubted that Weasley had ever picked up an instructional book let alone been able to read and comprehend it. Numbly he swallowed down the softened bread in his mouth, tossing the last corner on his plate resting on the counter top, "Let me get this straight, Potter…you and your shadow came to find me to call me a Death Eater and tell me that because I'm such an abdominal human being I should change my wicked ways and help you? Am I supposed to just do good out of the evil of my heart?"

"Yes," Ron nodded affirmatively but Harry looked far less thrilled about his response. Harry had personally witnessed the marred flesh of his brand so sharp against the pale flesh of Draco's forearm but he had been locked by Hermione's side for almost two weeks now. Draco was evil in his own right but even Malfoy couldn't be that evil to put on such a great charade. Ron wavered his hand this way and that to animatedly ramble on, "They make bloody mental wings because of the stuff you people do!"

"Well, he's got me there, Potter." Harry's mouth opened to retort but Draco was already pushing to his feet from where he was leaning back into the counter, running his thumb along the bottom of his lip to rid it of crumbs and his departure from the room without a second thought.

Hermione was sitting peacefully on top of the comforter, exhausted of sitting in one spot for such a long period of time but much to her dismay, her longing to get lost in one of her many stories was put on a far back burner. Draco had her engulfed in a rather bazaar one already or so it seemed. Her legs tucked beneath her, hands draped in her lap, she looked half heartedly at the pile of mismatched viles in front of her ranging in contents and colors when Draco reentered the room. He offered her a strange glance, folding his arms a crossed his chest while lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed, opposite her and the pile in between them.

"What's the matter, Granger? Afraid the big bad wolf gave you the wrong ones?" She shot him a disapproving glare, picking one up to toy with it between her fingers, eyes questioning the crystal blue liquid swirling around inside, "no…just tired of drinking potions. What's one day?" The great and almighty Hermione Granger, who at one point had planned on pursuing a career as a medi witch, not unlikely from all the practice she got on the brain dead pair he'd just walked away from, was afraid to take medicine? It dawned on him that he'd yet to be in the room while Mrs. Weasley had administered her potions previously and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter."What?" She sounded too incredulous and accusationaly as she palmed the vile, folding her arms over her chest as she stated so matter of factly, "It tastes awful." He put his hands up defensively as he tossed his hair back, nodding in mock agreement with her. It never failed; he just couldn't hold his walls up around her. She never questioned why he stayed with her, never questioned what this was, what he wanted, never made him feel any less than who he was when he was with her now. It was irritating and beautiful all at the same time, just like her. "Tell you what Granger…for every vile you take, you can ask me one question that I will not lie or shade," Her eyes perked up at the offer of his game, studying the vile once again as she uncrossed her arms with a sudden new interest but she sighed out exasperatedly, "There have got to be ten of them!"

"Take it or leave it, Granger. That's ten questions."

"If you won't answer then I don't have to drink it."

"Fine."

"Fine," she bravely pulled the cork from the vile, downing back the blue contents back as they drained down her throat, making her cough and cover her mouth as she choked it down. He watched her in a dim interest, holding his hand out to take the remains and re cork it while she shuddered away the tingling sensations in her bones. "Why are you still here?"

That was her question? Draco shrugged rather nonchalantly, placing his hands flatly on either side of his thigh before he answered her flatly, "because I don't want to care but I do. You're involved now and I can't walk away. Love to tell you it'd be to save my guilty conscious if I had one but we both know that's a wee bit of a lie."

She eyed him carefully, accepting his answer as she tossed back another vile, coughing into her hands as it stung down her throat, burning into her stomach like fire whiskey. She tasted her tongue in her mouth, running it along the roof to try and wash away the remnants it left behind, "do they want me dead for helping you or for being near you?"

That was an easy one, "both."

" I'm assuming running to the Malfoy manor is out but my mum and dad's...semester doesn't begin for another two weeks and all of my things…" she trailed off softly, running the pad of her thumb along the rim of the vile she'd just pulled the cork from. Draco motioned to it vaguely, telling her that his lips remained closed until she finished the contents. With a sigh she tipped it back into her mouth, eyes screwed tightly closed as the green slime oozed from the vile and into her slender throat. Merlin, she felt like she was going to die from the taste alone and she tried to lock onto his words as she felt all of the tiny hairs of her body stand up on end. "I can buy you new things, Granger," all she did was glare at him as she tried to smooth her arms with her hands. Un pursing his lips, Draco continued slowly, motioning his hand like he was talking to a small child, "By now, I'm sure they know that you're not dead and it's safe to assume they know that I found you. Won't be long before my father makes a concerned trip to Weasley's front door to poke his nose around and if you want your things, well, we've got to do it before he does."

Hermione rapidly downed the fifth and six vile, hoping that her rapidness would make her feel more comfort in just getting it done but it only succeeded in causing her to double over and groan at the fluttering in her wounds, working their magic at healing the unsightly marks. "And then what?"

"We're not going to make it to Hogwarts, love." Hermione's face was becoming angry and while he should have been irritated that he knew the storm was brewing, he found himself thankful to see the fire darting life back into her eyes, "you better explain that right now, Malfoy."

He'd been attempting to keep the thought to himself for over a week now, trying to find the words to tell the only person in the world who thought the first day of a new school year was the best day of her life that she would be missing her final year at Hogwarts and it was their fault. "What happened to you was a warning, mostly to me but to Potter as well. Our little stunt getting caught front page pushed that war up about a good two weeks. As in pre-school year, as in any day now."

"How do you know that?" Hermione had already suspected his answer but the stinging in her chest from such a tremendous loss was threatening to break. A war that shouldn't have needed to be fought, a war that was robbing the entire wizarding world of everything it held close and dear. If this was question six, Christ, he couldn't wait for the remaining four. "I've been a spy for the last year of my bleeding life, Granger, it's why the ministry pardoned me. Dumbledore…" his eyes flashed to a distant memory before he pressed on, "…Dumbledore told Snape to ensure I wasn't able to carry through. To stop me from having the chance to become my father, said it would be the final shove. It was enough to raise a few eyebrows when I couldn't kill him, hence where you come in."

He said it so easily, like being involved in a plan of murdering the most powerful wizard of their time was just another walk in the garden picking daisies. How could she have been so blind? How couldn't they have known…unless this was the lie? Everything in her wanted to believe his silky words bearing his heart open to her in all its dirty little secrets, but only for four more questions. Why lie to her? What good would it do him? She supposed it would keep her aiding him but would he really go through such dire lengths just to survive? Why not just ask the ministry for help? Hermione puffed her chest up in determination, tilting her chin as she downed the next, handing the bottle off to him in a swipe of her lips, "so what do we do now?"

Now that one he'd take over the last any day! "Easy, Granger. We get your things when the timing is right, I'll take care of the rest, and we'll warn the Weasley's. And I suppose Potter if we must."

"I don't understand, Malfoy. Your parents are filthy rich but you…how do you have any access to it? Can't they find you by that alone?"

"Ah, ah, ah…" A slender digit pointed at the deteriorating pile in front of her and with much deliberation, she carefully drained the small clear liquid, almost smiling at the simple lightness it made her feel as it coursed through her. "Lucius is well off but my mother is a bright, wonderful woman. My affairs have been handled apart shortly after birth." The life of a pureblood or the life of a spoiled brat? She wasn't sure which was more fitting but she supposed Malfoy would have done anything to uphold his image and she couldn't recall him ever talking of his mother before now…it was almost sweet although the last two viles she quickly attempted to down at the same time were nothing of the sort. Salt and the hint of butterscotch mixing on her pallet was far from enjoyable. Draco stood from the bed, carrying the empty viles off to the room Mrs. Weasley had stood listening in the first night they arrived, dropping them in the basin of the sink.

"So your plan is to hide until the war starts?"

"No, my plan is to tell Potter what he needs to know, to an extent, so we can get this bloody war over with. In the meantime we'll hide," Draco's voice rose from his position behind the screen but he poked his head round the corner when she remained silent. A single brow tugged upwards and Hermione smiled innocently from her spot on top of the bed, "You said we. As in you. As in me. We."

_Damn it._

Draco was so caught off guard at her revelation, he had no time to be logical and decipher the fact that she was actually smiling to herself at the thought, and he simply assumed the worst. After all, Draco may have known how to woe a woman but usually it was only to his bed. After that they were just pawns he kept high on a shelf to pull down and play with whenever he saw it necessary. Leave it to Granger to be so indispensible. _Stupid Witch._

He never even thought to wonder if she'd choose to stay with Potthead and Weaselbee, even though he suspected they would follow the pair closely where ever they chose to take residence in, he simply assumed she'd want to stay with him like he wanted to stay with her. She helped the restless nights pass, helped him wake up without the constant ache in his chest, doomed to no way out, and more than anything else, Draco couldn't face knowing what would happen if he wasn't there to protect her…again. Hermione could see the different emotions splay along his chiseled features as he stepped back into the room. She hugged her knees in against her chest almost giddy with the possibility as she tilted her head to the side, "Tomorrow is the last of my medicine. We could travel to Hogsmede."

"Eager to leave the bed, are we, Granger?"

His arms were folded over his chest, nearing her as she stretched her legs out in front of her, "unless something more inviting comes along." She was feeling so much better than she did a week ago already, the bruises fading but still evident while she was starting to feel a little stir crazy being cooped up. Hermione never was a girl to waste time healing when there were so many other things she could be spending her precious time on, like Draco who was currently crawling up the bed towards her, parting her legs to feel her body closer to his own. Aside from fleeting kisses to her skin as he tried to coax her to sleep in the long nights, he'd been a gentleman and kept his greedy touch to himself, letting her heal and putting his own desire and want aside, until now that is. He'd been waiting for that cue for longer than he ever anticipated still wanting her, his mouth hovering over her own in a breathy voice. "You still have one question, Granger."

Her fingers were smoothing through his hair, tracing his face with his lips so close to hers she had to fight the urge to lean up and claim them. "Do you still want me, Malfoy?" Back to their game and his smirk noted his feelings towards the loop back, "never stopped, Granger, but you're still healing…" Hermione was ready to protest when he began to recoil back down her body until she felt his lips make contact to the inside of her knee, "…so I'm going to take this slow."


	14. You are so

"Let me entertain you," Hermione's head tipped back on the bed, fighting the urge to pull her legs closed as he drug his lips deliberately up the flesh of her thigh. "Hell hath frozen over if the day comes that Draco Malfoy puts another first…oh!" No matter the fact that the images were still fresh in her mind of Draco bending her over her parent's kitchen sink and any other fleeting and wanton touch they'd shared already, a faint blush crept into her cheeks every time, especially now that his hands had slid underneath her legs, his grip against her hips before he tugged an old pair of Ginny's loose pajama shorts down from her legs. This was sex, sex at its best, but Hermione Granger did not just have sex, not with just anyone so why did she keep falling back into it with him? Draco's mouth was toying with the band of her underwear, dipping his tongue down into her hip bone as she visibly shuddered. He was the Slytherin sex god, no doubt about it, but he was also the man that held her through the waking memories of things to come and things of past. He was also the man that may have been an obnoxiously sarcastic prat but when he held her, when he spoke to her…it was like she was the only person alive.

"Always said you needed to relax, Granger," Merlin she would have loved to smack that arrogance right off his pristine face but it was currently between her legs, mouthing her through the thin fabric, feeling her back arch off the bed with her hands moving to cover her face and those terribly red stained cheeks. Granger's hips were pressing down into his touch, savoring the feeling that she understood who full in well was making her feel this way. _Good, let the bitch feel exactly what she does to me_. "I'll buy you knew ones," his tone was gruff and mumbled, his attention far too focused on something other than forming words while he tore her panties from her body, tossing them to the floor. Poor Hermione, _not_, barely had time to react as she popped up to her elbows, eyes open wide in protest and surprise but the look washed from her face quickly, his pointed tongue parting a line between her lips, her breath caught in the back of her throat. Untamed curls, still far more smoothed and polished then he ever remembered before this involvement with Granger, tumbled down her back as her head fell backwards.

He was far too good at this. Hermione let out a weak moan as he took his time toying with her, tasting her, finding the spots that made her jump slightly with a swirl of the tip of his tongue. "Draco…" his name was purring from her lips when he flattened his tongue to the conjunction of nerves, swiping the surface in an intricate pattern as he mumbled against her, "say it again." A thin finger arched its way inside of her while Draco kissed up the bend of her thigh. She was impossible! Why hadn't anyone ever informed him that Hermione Granger was such a mind blowing partner? Partner…Draco almost laughed out loud. He didn't have partners, Draco had conquests. Malfoy meant to say, why hadn't anyone ever informed him that Hermione Granger, the mudblood, was this bloody tight, wet, sexy, unbelievable…she was moaning his name, lulling her head to the side when he pressed a second finger inside, his thumb and tongue alternating a rough circle against her clit and even his image that he'd perfected in stone to isolate himself was blurring at the edges. Even as he tried to hold on to the mask he'd worked so hard to protect, her body writhing beneath him…_Hermione's_ body writhing beneath him was enough to make him forget it all, but only for her.

Tossing her body back onto the mattress, the smooth expanse of her leg came to curl over his shoulder, her fingers threading into his hair, running the silk between in a small fascination. So bloody wrong. So bloody fantastic! Never in her life had she felt able to relinquish control of her thoughts, giving way to her image that she'd worked so hard to keep free from blemish and just feel. Draco Malfoy was many things to her both before and after the fact but an un-patient lover was not one of them. He always took his time running his hands over her, feeling every inch of her skin, making her come undone at the seams, melt and nearly scream out in frustration before he gave in. The night of the party she'd chalked it up to the prospect of a one night stand with his strange behavior. Perhaps it had meant more to Malfoy then just a conquest of shagging Potter's best friend, especially with the way he had behaved the last two days, that the agonizing speed he explored her with was for himself to remember shall it never happen again but now…now she realized that he simply liked the touch of her. Oh why wasn't there a book to explain Draco? There was a book for everything else, hell, she swore there was even a book on how to kill Draco!

Draco could feel her muscles contracting around him, sheathing his fingers as they pressed inside of her, toyed with her, caressed her. Her grip of his hair was growing stronger and somewhere in the midst of a shudder creeping up her spine, Hermione managed to stop him. "I need you…" Three little words made his heart explode, or was that his brain? Did he just have an aneurism? He leaned back lightly to address her properly, running his tongue out the corner of his mouth to swipe along the swell of his bottom lip. It was the single most amazing and terrifying thing anyone had ever said to him and all he could force back was, "are you sure? This isn't about me."

A sultry smirk slid up her face like the lioness she was, pulling him up her body between her legs, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, lifting herself up in search of his lips. "No," Draco's hands settled lightly on her shoulders, pressing her back down into the mattress, causing her hands to falter down his arms, resting at his elbows with that look of shock written on her face. "I said I'm taking this slow. Pay attention, Granger." He took her wrists into his hands, lifting them to lay back against the pillows of her makeshift bed, pressing them in above her head. Slowly he tore his gaze from her, moving his lips down to brush against her own as he lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "I'm going to make love to you, Hermione."

Her voice was caught, a breathy noise whispering against his lips before he claimed her own. His kiss was so soft and so demanding all at the same time, almost possessive and tender and at that moment, Hermione realized no matter what happened…she'd be forever forced to relive the sex god that was Draco Malfoy. She was so caught up on her beautiful ideal that the distant voice was only muffled background noise in her ear. Even as the hinges squeaked loudly and the footsteps stifled, she could only feel Draco's skin against her own. It wasn't until the door slammed that she jerked to reality, snapping her head to the door now closed behind a fuming Ronald Weasley.

He'd just been walking down the hall, just came to check on her, that's all he planned to do! He called her name a few times before he came in, just wanted to see if she was awake and oh my was she. Draco sodding Malfoy was on top of _his_ Hermione. Her hands pinned above her head, face hidden behind Malfoy's head, her under garments torn on the floor and all he saw was red. His face was nearly purple with anger, screaming out so loudly that Hermione jumped back in the bed, finding the sheet to drag it up in attempt to cover herself. "Get the fuck away from her Malfoy!" Draco clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, sitting back on his bent legs with feigned interest in Ron's tirade, hands resting on his thighs. Well this was far more interesting then with Potter.

"Oh look darling, its Ronald Weasley coming to pay us a visit at the most inappropriate time. Shall I send him away?"

"This isn't funny, Draco." Draco. Why does she insist on calling him Draco! Ron was teetering very close to giving into the urge to pummel Malfoy into a bloody pile he could mop up.

"Yes, but I feel sort of bad for him. Looking like I just stole his woman, so, yes, I'm sure of it. I should send him away."

"You are to keep your filthy hands off of her, do you hear me Malfoy?!" Ron was still shouting but Malfoy remained calm, smoothly lifting a dismissive hand. She didn't know how he did it. She was quivering in the corner, searching the bed for her shorts to discretely cover her pride. "I will put my filthy hands on any part of my girlfriend as I see fit, Weasley."

"I'm not your girlfriend." "She's not your girlfriend." Hermione and Ron both announced at the same time, looking briefly at each other before Ron blushed, sharply directing a glare straight through Malfoy's head. Smoothly he rolled to his feet, Ron's posture stiffening on his heels as he did. Draco pointed his hand to Hermione, addressing her like a sidebar, "you most certainly are so," before he turned back to Ron, "and this has been coming for quite some time already I'd say and I'd wager I'm a gambling man."

"I am going to kill you, Malfoy." Ron's voice was threatening a place she never dared near again, and she nearly believed he meant it but Draco kept taunting him, "I was going to suggest a friendly game of poker but I suppose your plan is good too. I didn't see Granger fancying handing herself over as a prize." Hermione was already on her toes, sheet clutched around her bare waist before Ron had a chance to lunge forward, tossing her hand up between them, her back standing to Draco. "No, no, stop it right now!" She turned around to Draco, slamming her small fist, to his surprise, against his chest to annunciate her words, "and why do you have to be such a bloody prat all the sodding time!"

"I am not a prize to be won, I am not going to watch your strutting around fighting for my honor mess, I am _not_ your girlfriend…" she turned to eye Draco in narrowed slits before softening them as she turned to Ron, "and I am not your girlfriend."

"You are so," Draco rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his bare chest, Dark Mark nearly forgotten as he tucked it away to hide now that he had been so brutally reminded. "Draco Malfoy you don't know the first thing about being in a relationship and this is not the time."

"The hell it's not the time! You tell me that you can picture going bed tonight and not having me next to you?" Ron thought his head was going to explode. He just assumed he never slept, that's what evil means, right? "Seriously, Malfoy! Not the time! I'm trying to fucking kill you!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, in a minute, Weasley. You know. Women."

"Or waking up from one of your dreams so I can put you back to bed, or not kicking all night because I remembered to take your stupid socks off? Are you saying that you can picture any part of your life without me in it?"

Hermione stared at him with her mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to speak or even if she remembered the English language. Draco just stared at her with his hands on his hips and his brow cocked up, "no? Didn't think so. You're my girlfriend, Granger, face it." Hermione sighed as she dropped her head. Everything Draco did was conflicting one hundred and thirty percent of the time. "Right then, now that that's settled…back to the killing. Come on then, Weaselbee."

"There will be no killing in my house! The two of you will get along, or share, or just simply not fight!" Mrs. Weasley was past flustered, her ears burning red with her many splayed emotions. While her heart ached for her son, she pleaded into the case of the young Malfoy. It would hurt Ron now but it would fade. She was beginning to bet that without Hermione, Draco would become something twisted and dark, hateful and doomed. That Draco would become his father. She didn't give a single lot of them the time to protest as she quickly continued, "Hermione has been locked away long enough and you are all to go with your father to Hogsmede because I'm sure there are some items we should require." If you looked past her choice of upbringing, she really wasn't such a horrible woman...and obviously not as dim as he would have previously given credit to due to her brain dead spawn standing in front of him. Draco smirked quietly, unfolding his arms to rest his hands back at the dip of flesh over bone of his hip. She'd already figured it all out.


	15. Pretty Little Reminders

_Kind of a filler chapter that I just wanted to add because it was cute. I've already started ahead at the ending and grew quite sad to give up this fic but alas, I own nothing. Enjoy! XD_

The entire lot of them sat around the crowded kitchen table, Draco looking thoroughly exhausted from the questions, Harry looking drained from the answers, and Ron simply looked murderously at Draco. An hour and a half later, Harry finally sighed in satisfaction. It was a lot to take in, if you believed it all, but Harry settled his glasses higher a top his nose with his forefinger, cocking his head to the side quizzically. "Alright but let me get this straight…Hermione is your…_girlfriend_?" Ginny had to stop herself from erupting in laughter that she was sure Harry wouldn't appreciate but he said the word like it meant something past appalling, something completely ludicrous, even if it was a tad. "She may also be the antichrist but they also say that about me," Hermione's eyes widened, sitting upright in her hair with her hands folded in her lap. Her head and shoulders slumped downward trying to stay out of the line of fire. Thank Merlin that Draco could withstand the heat.

"Well then," Ron spoke up first, eyeing nothing in particular. "Guess we should all be off then. I'm sure Malfoy wants to get back to murdering kittens and defiling Hermione." Hermione felt her cheeks burn, Fred and George shoving each other lightly in an exchange of 'I knew it's.' Draco suddenly felt the need to break his face in forever mouthing a bad word against her but he held his tongue, setting his jaw while he forced his sight away from the doorway. Hermione's hand brushed his elbow, his head turning so quickly she almost recoiled it until she saw the softened expression on his face. It wasn't the first time she'd touched him in public but it was the first time she showed emotion towards him in front of her _friends_.

A wave of coats came flooding at them, Mrs. Weasley rushing behind them in a tattered flick of her wand. Each one of them caught a cloak to the chest, knocking them back a step in the process. That is, everyone but Hermione. Draco had forgotten that she hadn't been wearing one the night he'd brought her. Well, this was nothing new but somehow he had an inclining that Weasley wasn't going to take the sight of him putting his cloak around her shoulders like he was doing right now. Ron couldn't understand it. Hermione was blushing like a third year when Draco moved his arm around her shoulders, assuring her she'd be alright, walking with her to the fireplace in the midst of everybody else. Why couldn't she see that he was a phony! He was a liar and a cheat and…and he was a Slytherin! Why couldn't she see he didn't really care about her? That this was all some charade? And just like that, they disappeared, together, in a cloud of green smoke. Ron sighed as he grabbed a handful of powder.

It was like a feeding frenzy. Lights popped the second they'd flashed through just after Potter and the She-Weasel. Draco noted the fact that Potter's arm was possessively placed around the fairer sex's shoulders much as his own was wrapped around Granger, holding them tightly to their shoulders, guiding them through the sea of lights and falsified glitter. Weasley was following shortly behind him, his father not more than a few steps behind the entirety, but Draco remained calm, still and straight faced as he turned to observe the woman wrapped beneath his arm. She looked nervous. Her bottom lip was being gnawed on by a set of pearled rows, her hands clutching his cloak as she leaned into him, tilting her head up to question his stare but he only offered her a tired smirk.

Draco wasn't too eager to have his name shot up in the Profit so soon after just being taken out but it was a reality that he'd become accustomed to. These people were vultures for the scandal developing around Granger and himself, not to mention that he'd just been spotted and captured on film walking within a two foot radius of nancy boy Potter, great, they were going to start suspecting that he had a heart. Draco nearly feigned contempt and clutched at the spot they've claimed previously was just an open black hole in his chest. "Draco…get me out of here," Hermione's eyes were squinting, trying to understand what he was so calm about when she felt like she was going to pull her bloody hair out.

"Miss. Granger! Are you pregnant?!"

"Have you met the folks!?"

"Are you getting married?!"

"Malfoy! Fighting for the good side?"

"Do you love her?!"

The questions poured on and Hermione looked exasperated as she tried to search for an answer that wasn't her voice screeching at the top of her lungs as Draco sharply turned them out into the streets further out from the bustle. No answer was going to give them what they wanted. He could sit there for hours and proclaim whatever he wanted and they'd still follow round like lost puppies looking for the right home. Being involved with Granger was confusing enough without paparazzi prying further into the mix.

Hermione shuddered inside the cloak, Draco nodding his head up to Harry while he smoothed his hand around the swell of her shoulder, "Oy! Potter…we'll catch up. Things to attend to and all." Harry looked skeptical as he turned his eyes onto Hermione, speaking to her lightly as Ron made his way up to the gravitating spot. "Right, well, Three Broomsticks, an hour?" "Oh come on, Harry," Ginny was tugging at his arm, coyly beckoning his attention before his flashing glances to and fro settled on a small smile to the red headed love of his heart, leaving Ron to be patted along by his father, trying to find a happy medium between disgust and anger over Malfoy or nauseous over his sister gushing about on his best mate.

"Things to do?" Hermione jabbed him in the side suddenly, pulling herself from under Draco's watchful arm. She could normally tell Harry and Ron anything, lately Ginny in some areas, but now she just felt on edge. Nervous and constricted inside her body while they judged her, questioned her, tried to decipher her _relationship _with Malfoy silently but God were the accusations she felt in their eyes loud enough to falter her deaf.

"You know, kill kittens and defile you. I hope I'm not expected to do it in that order or simultaneously. I fear that will only get messy."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I am doing no such thing."

Draco sighed as he pressed into a large brass door to a particular shop open, it's charming bells singing a simple melody as he allowed her to step in first, "why must you always be so difficult?"

Hazelnut hues flashed back to the whites at him, stopping short of the entrance with an audible gasp. She stood in the middle of a gold infested open room, draped in crimsons and purples, satin chairs and long, sheer curtains. The door clicked behind them, causing Hermione to jump suddenly, whipping her head to look at him with a strange wide structure to her eyes. What? She's never been inside a lingerie store before? "Easy, Granger. Give me two minutes," He patted his hand softly in the air, mocking her gently with that stupid smirk plastered on his face as he turned from her, leaving her rigid while he gracefully made his way to the long mahogany desk. Draco carefully lifted the feather tipped quill from its base, twisting it playfully in his fingers as he observed it. Hermione half wondered if he was doing it just to watch her squirm, the prat. He fluidly swirled his signature onto the open book resting in front of him, watching as a trail of silver ribbons twisted out of thin air above the desk, shimmering against the sunlight before a square box fell into his waiting palm. She couldn't help but notice that Draco actually looked pleased before it all swept away as he turned to face her, dismissing his game of watching her blush in embarrassment, making his way back through the shop to swiftly jerk the door open for her. "What, Granger? I said I'd replace them."

This wasn't going to work. This just wouldn't do at all. He couldn't be willingly calling in orders for frilly little lacy things just to watch her smile. Oh yes, Draco made a mental note to hold true to his promise, in fact, every single little one of them. Draco made it a fact to never watch her suffer like he had just done, feeling the life drain from her body, feeling the cold, sick hiccupping of her heart threatening to break through his chest and murder his own. He was irritated and sickened with himself all at the same time but all Granger could do was blush a faint shade of rose, that silly smile caught hinting at the corners of her mouth, her hands folded in front of her as she gazed at the stones her feet had yet to pass.

That stupid, arrogant prick had really brought her into a sultry shop and thought she'd just, you know, forget an entire seventeen years of upbringing and just be alright that she was standing here with a man, with Malfoy, who insisted that he was taking care of everything? Oh no, Sir. And just as she was ready to faint with humiliation, Draco had to go and remember that he'd torn her underwear to shreds mere hours ago, more than once in their past now if she recalled correctly. Could you blame her for gushing over such a beautiful reminder coming from such a normally callous individual?

"Might as well go ahead and say it, Granger. I know you're dying to," Hermione's smile only broadened as she beamed up at him, "That was really sweet, Draco." He tucked the box beneath his arm, shoving his hand down into his pocket as he chanced a glance at her, shaking his head in a light scoff of her words. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with indifference as he turned to face to the up and coming streets, "I was right. That is the single last thing I want to ever hear again."

"I'll just think it next time."


	16. Choose Your Friends, Not Your Family

Hermione had her arms folded firmly a crossed her chest, chin poking upright, chest puffed out with quickened steps, "Are you going to do this every shop or just every other?" Draco merely continued strolling along, not a care in the world, swinging the bags back and forth in his hand, mildly acknowledging her distemper. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, glaring back quickly before she stormed ahead only to repeat and repeat once more. Finally Hermione grew tired of his disregard to answer her and stomped her foot in a whirl of midnight black fabric still in tune around her shoulders. "Draco Malfoy, I am not a prize and I am not going to be bought! Must I really say it twice?!" Her finger was pointing out at his chest as he slowed his steps, rolling his eyes back before giving his head a small flick to get a better sight as her temper ticked upwards. "Is that really what you think I'm doing, Granger? I mean…really?" Brightest witch of our time? Hardly.

With a slender hip jutted out, arms folded over her chest, face set in a bitter scowl, she was determined that she would not back her ground. She may have had no idea what in the wizarding world he was talking about but she would not cower. She was not just going to lay down and let him win. Again. Draco gestured with his hands the best he could with the amount of bags and box that were tangled in his grip, "Is it so bad to want to see you in something that I bought you? I mean, god damn, Granger." She stood silent when he turned his face away from her, looking off into the surround. "I get it, alright? That you're not ready to trust me, can't say I would either, but I'm not you or this would all just be way more fucked up then it already is. I get that your ridiculous friendship with scar head and the mop has you questioning ever little thing I do but think about it, Granger…have I lied to you?"

Consider her defeated. Hermione dropped her arms, sighing as she lowered her head. Every time. Every freaking time! "You are way too confusing."

"That's swell, love but I think my head might explode if Weasley keeps staring at me through the glass like that. Seriously, I think my hair is going to catch fire." She just sweetly laughed, genuinely laughed in a way that he'd never seen her before. Light, soft, no caution, no pretension, just simple. Her hand covered her mouth lightly, shaking off the fit as she turned to make entrance to the Three Broomsticks. To Draco's defense, Ron was attempting to follow the flashes of white shining gold under the dimming sun, even as they made their way inside for her to kiss and hug, awkwardly, hello. Angry Ron, well, Hermione could handle that but heartbroken Ron was an entirely different story. Arthur nodded briskly in a curt hello, looking flustered under the collar as he began quickly making pace through the dingy atmosphere and towards the back halls which were still not much better that dirty.

Draco felt his shoulders force themselves to relax, not allowing the company to catch his discomfort around their rather obnoxious presence however grating it was. Hermione's small hand slid around his bicep, holding the back of his arm against the front of hers, her other clutching his cloak around her while they followed suit while Potter just kept throwing glances behind them, holding onto the thing bobbing on his arm's hand like a rag doll, checking the leftovers in the room like at any moment they would transform into Voldemort himself.

"So it's true then?" A voice so low, so pointed in direction that she barely heard it drawling into the room as the dark figure stepped from behind her, "You are wearing the mudblood now a days. Thought you were supposed to be dead." His head remained still but his eyes locked onto Hermione's now wide eyed expression, dead in her tracks with her head turned to face none other than Blaise Zambini, looking rather disappointed in the reality. "Oh goody, I was starting to get bored not beating someone to a bloody hole in the floor," Harry moved in front of Ginny instinctly with the brief halt in procedure at Draco's words.

"And protecting her now, too? Really, Draco…what a mighty heart you've grown."

"You really want to test that theory, Zambini?"

"Gladly. I'd love the chance to wipe that stolen smirk off your ungreatful face." Draco scoffed out, turning his head as the steered Hermione back around, "You're not worth it." Hermione couldn't help but watch Blaise in all his dark glory from over top her shoulder, attentively being moved forward in miniscule steps. Blaise opened his thin lips to retort but Draco's hand, bags dangling from his elbow, shot into the air. "Not. Now. Zambini. You don't even have a wand."

How could he possibly know that? "I won't need it to beat you."

"We both know that's not true," Draco nodded towards Potter, turning his narrowed expression away as they cut through the group of standstill, sorry excuses for human beings. Five pairs of eyes watched carefully of the tall, unusually pale boy standing at the end of the Hallways bend, only one pair locked forward, hell bent on making his round towards the door lying just several feet away. "Malfoy…do you have _any_ friends? At all?" Harry was nearly laughing at the scuffle he'd nearly gotten into in Hermione's defense against a Slytherin…in Hogsmede… in The Three Broomsticks…beside Draco. Draco's scowl eased in its own discretion, tossing a charming smirk sideways as Harry moved in behind the two of them. "Only you, Jesus." The iron handle turned in his hand, leaning forward in an open handed gesture to grace Hermione through in pure fanfare. In his bent posture, he threw Ginny a playful wink of his eye, watching as she raised her own open a few decimals higher.

"I really hate you."

"Feelings mutual, Potter."

His cheeky grin carried him all the way through the entrance once he'd stood upright, into the open vast of room and directly into the brick wall strangely placed in the center of the expand. The normally rough exterior of the brick gave way to his body just after Granger's, feeling them mush around his skin while he pressed through. The pressure beat into his bones, the constriction pushing them through before tossing them out in a vertigo expression into the bleak gray surroundings of the empty room.

"Remus! They're here!" Tonks made no less than a fuss as she rushed into the now open doorway, the weathered floor groaning as her boots made their way a crossed them. Her olive toned arms were tossed around Granger, pulling her in a snuggle before she rushed, without a second word to take in Harry and Ginny as a joint cause. Ron flushed a similar shade as his hair as she tugged him in next, moving quickly to clasp Arthur's arms with a softer smile. It was a brief moment of exchange but the solemn dread they feared in each other's eyes set a drape of unease to loam above their heads. Her arms were on the move again, opening as she turned, leaning forward almost faster than her vision but those eyes soon caught up. Draco took a single step back, leaning onto his far leg as she neared but at least straightened himself out as she tossed her head to Harry. "You do realize that there is a Malfoy standing right in this very room, don't you, Potter?"

"Good to see you too, Aunt Nymphadora." She turned back to him with a weary smile but it fleeted swiftly from her face, loosening her composure as Lupin finally made his way up the long staircase."Remus!" Arthur raised his hands at the sight of his old friend, Tonks turning to face her husband, gesturing with a nod of her head before he had a chance to greet the head of Weasley. "Seems Draco has a little more Black in him then we thought." Remus's almost beady eyes moved to the platinum glimpse in the room. His smile was much more pleased then his wife's had, clasping his hands in front of his body, nodding his head in approval. Why did Draco suddenly feel like he was going to begin a lesson at any moment and he hadn't done his parchments? "Splendid. I do love a good twist." Remus untangled his hands, waggled his finger with a wink of the eye, unable to hide the wistful smile he dotted onto Tonks as he passed her by. Hermione admired them. There was never a moment, fighting and all, that the two of them didn't look completely and utterly lost in love. They were what fairytales were made of, that is, if carnal desire, blood lust, and body shifting was in your average run of the mill fairytale.

"Welcome to head quarters."


	17. A Lesson Learned

_Went on a bit of a hiatus, my bad. I spent a couple of days trying to figure out how I was going to work the ending that I had planned from the beginning so enter the plot twist of this chapter! I never intended to go this route but since this is already one of my lighter Draco stories I decided it was fitting. What do you think? Like it? Hate it?_

It took over an hour for everyone to settle in and settle down after dinner had been laid out on the ratty existence on the dining room table and eaten in earnest. Mrs. Weasley had made sure everyone had tucked away their belongings in the shared rooms, separating the boys and girls into two separates. It was a hectic scene with so many bodies running to and from in such a narrow manor but it seemed to be holding its purpose. Draco had walked off a good hour ago, leaving Hermione alongside Ginny and Tonks in her seat at the table, legs pulled underneath her with her wandering mind over his abrupt departure.

Ginny's eyes traveled quickly around the room and all entrances, lowering her voice in her lightly playful tone when the coast was clear, "he's in love with you, isn't he?"

"Yeah, spill already," Tonk's waggled a sapphire blue eyebrow at her, a wide grin spreading onto her face as she angled in her chair.

"Maybe. I don't know…it's Malfoy! He's so hard to read. I never know what he's thinking," Hermione sighed, resting her chin into her hand with a softened expression before Ginny spoke up, her attention directed at the elder woman in front of her, "hasn't left her side since…well, for about three weeks or so now. You should see them together. It's brilliant."

"Ginny!"

Tonks only widened her smile, moving her elbows to the table to watch Hermione's dreamy expression before the wicked blush tainted her cheeks, "You love him?" The dazing glance dropped quickly as she took the question in. He'd pretty much made her accept that he was her boyfriend, he'd tried to get her to say this very thing before but it'd only been three weeks or so, give or take a few days, and love wasn't supposed to be such a quick endeavor, was it? Nymphadora knew every emotion dwelling behind her eyes, knowing the battling feeling that was nagging at her heart that she was sure she was ready to give away but knowing Hermione, was still double checking the consequences to her satisfaction. "Sometimes," was her only reply.

For once in the many passing days of late, Hermione felt comfort in the questions surrounding herself and Draco, the common bond for her two dear friends to help her understand, figure out, admit to with little to no animosity towards her choice in him. Everyone assumed that she was saving Draco from a life of pain and misery but in turn, he was saving her. It was the single most terrifying feeling she'd ever been subjected to in her life. Tonk's suddenly stood from her chair, her steps deliberate with her casual bounce as she made her way to the tall bookshelf, plucking a particularly dully wrapped book from the dusty confines.

"Well then, I think it's about time someone gave you girls some knowledge," finally something that caught Hermione's undivided attention! Her enthusiasm for whatever Tonk's was going to teach them was past hiding discretely, instead, she watched in fascination as her gloved hand searched through the pages to a particular chapter. "Spells, quick and easy spells for, well, for keeping yourself safe in these situations…"

"Like the protection spell? Lavender tried to show me once…while trying to ask my advice on how she could snag my brother." All three of their faces scrunched into displeasure at the thought before Ginny snatched the book, glancing over the few listed spells designed for situations involving the pleasures of the flesh. They were simple and helpful like sound barriers, protection spells to stop conception, pregnancy alert spells…"Oh! I've always wanted to know how to do this one!" Ginny was fascinated with the lives of Medi-Witches but Hermione could only scoff when she leaned forward in her chair to get a better glance over the spot her finger was pointing.

Tonks lifted her nose, straining her eyes to read over what Ginny was concentrating on retaining. "That? That one's easy, you mind 'Mione?" Ginny was already on a hunt for her wand in her pocket before the words had even finished leaving Tonk's mouth, Hermione nodding her head as she sighed and slumped back in her chair, "How can I say no to that?" Tonk's went step by step through the spell, her finger catching along a sentence or two to double check her accuracy in teaching the only Weasley daughter. Ginny's eyes closed carefully, her wand tip pointed against Hermione's abdomen as she leaned back in her chair. The warmth spreading through her was easing her qualms as her stomach lit in a faint orange glow. Hermione inched her own shirt up to take in the way she could nearly trace the outline of the veins along her stomach, like she'd swallowed a flashlight that was still alive and kicking inside of her. Tonk's was nodding her head in approval before that peaceful amber glow turned to a crystal tint of blue. It was a lovely shade she could only describe as Draco's eyes. She almost felt bad shutting away the color as she pulled her shirt back down along her formally exposed flesh.

Tonks shot up from her chair, her own wand drawn as she repeated the spell, watching Hermione sit upright in her chair, her brows knit in confusion as that faint blue light swelled and dissolved at her stomach once again. Tonk's moved her hand to cover her mouth as Hermione's opened to question her motives but Ginny's words got there first. With her hands flattened on the table, glaring at the book in a shocking confirmation, she turned her head to Hermione's seat at the end of the table, "Hermione…you're pregnant…"

Draco's hands pressed down onto the edges of the sink basin, head dropped low in a wave of golden strands. Black slacks graced his long legs, perfectly tailored to stop just short of his boots. He'd long since lost the grey sweater vest, leaving only the long sleeved black shirt holding along his chest and arms. Dulling hues lifted to stare against his own reflection, trying to find the man that Granger kept looking at him like he was. He'd lead her to believe that he'd followed her for his own protection, to ensure his safety through the times to come but in reality he'd done it for her. He could have left after she'd healed him; after all, that was the beginning plan. Granger was easy to predict and it wasn't hard to know she'd find enough pity for him to help but it was his own fears that kept him following her round and round.

She embodied everything he hated, everything he'd fought against and everything that kept her running through his mind, taunting him through the day. He'd wanted to prove her wrong about him, show her he wasn't the monster he was portrayed as, make her see that he could be there, he could protect her but he wasn't protecting himself. Hermione stepped through the bathroom door, closing it quietly behind her with either hand on the doorknob and frame. His eyes moved an inch in the mirror to observe her as she turned to look at him, watching him from her distance, unsteady and lost.

"What's the matter, Granger? Get tired of the do right parade?"

"You made a promise."

Draco turned from his stand, pressing his hips back against the sink with his arms moving to fold along the broad of his chest. Promise? Which promise was that now? For as off balance as he was with the entire situation, her standing there in front of him, boldly watching, waiting for a move from his escaped spot inside the tucked away bath chamber.

Hermione knew this wasn't an easy task. He'd left everything he knew and joined everything that he'd fought against and rebelled through for years. She had no reason to believe he was thrilled about spending time with Harry or Ron not to mention the random other passer throughs of head quarters, all preparing, all judging…mostly him. "What promise was that, Granger? Really, I'm too drained to play a game of figure the book worm out tonight." What was she so nervous about anyways? As numbing an experience as this all was, she was still there each night he moved into bed, each morning when he woke, and every moment his brain had to spare.

The peaceful swell of her bottom tier slid inside of her mouth, her teeth chewing against its surface anything but tenderly, dragging her sight up towards the ceiling as she found the courage to walk, carrying herself to slump down along the edge of the bathtub. "You going to tell me what the bloody matter is or do I get a clue?" and still she said nothing, just sat there looking quite perplexed while she waged war to her inner demons, "Seriously, Granger! This is stupid! Just tell me what is…" Draco's growing voice was caught along the back of his throat when she slammed her hands against her thighs, planting her feet firmly on the tile from her seat as she whipped her face up to him. Hermione was suddenly annoyed, snapping it out like one of his comebacks when she'd spent the past five minutes gnawing at her helpless lip in a full on daze to pinpoint the perfect words, "would you shut your face, Malfoy!? I'm trying to tell you that I'm…We're freaking pregnant."

Draco's eyes were still rolling back in a huff as she cut him off, turning away from her only to snap back around with a twirl on his heels, hues wide and open, unguarded as the anger began to melt from her delicate features, washing away to leave her with the unsafety she felt looming just on the tip of his tongue. "I'm sorry…you're going to need to repeat that. You're…we're what?" This wasn't happening. Hermione nodded her head to herself more than anyone else as she repeated dully into the room, "pregnant. Yes, I'm sure," suddenly wanting to crawl inside of her own body and hide for the next ten years. It was bad enough that she was sleeping with the enemy, despite his recent change in demeanor, or whatever it was that they were, but currently his child was a heap of bouncing cells matching and mashing together inside of her womb.

He was going to hate her, she just knew it. Draco was going to leave like he'd promised he wouldn't, he was going to tell her to exactly what she had been dreading since the day he arrived…that this was all just some sort of joke, that she was nothing to him, that he wouldn't allow anyone but a pureblood to birth his successors but it didn't come. Hermione couldn't bare to unclench her squeezing lids as his footsteps thudded softly on the tile, dropping down onto his knees before her. "Please don't be mad…it's so early along I just…I wasn't trying…" the tears threatening to spill over the breaking point lingering near, her body jumping lightly as his hand found its way up the swell of her cheek, settling his opposite along her knee.

All the mental battles that he'd attempted to run through to determine the optimum outcome for this thing he'd started between himself and Granger, all the escape routes and all the roads that lead right back to her…all the dreams he'd had involving some future beside her and this was a kicker he hadn't prepared himself for. All this time he'd kept telling himself that fighting beside her and Potter was the ultimate test of his change in life but as bad as that was… destroying the Malfoy chain should have proved far worse. Despite the purity of that immaculate blood line that he was supposed to uphold in his hand, for the life of him, Draco couldn't stop the smirk that hooked along the corner of his mouth, "I want a girl."


	18. Acceptance

Her lashes grew dark and matted with tears already welling up just behind her closed lids. His touch was chilling against her face, settled on her knee but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. How was she going to tell her parents? How was she going to tell Harry and Ron? Merlin, wait till Rita Skeeter caught wind of this. Hermione Granger, the goddess of Gryffindor virtue, is carrying the bastard child of pureblood prince and son of the right hand of Voldemort, Draco Malfoy. The headlines were already beating at her chest and all she could do was settle her hands against her stomach in her gasping sobs.

Merlin, she was crying again. She tended to do that a lot lately…it was rather irritating. Normally he'd roll his eyes before attempting to wade through her sketchy sentences in a language he could only call Granmuttsobaniese but this wasn't some fleeting temper. The woman on the other side of his hands, the woman he was currently pulling into his waiting chest to tenderly wrap his arms around was currently holding his child within her. Of all the many adventures Draco had indulged in, fatherhood was not one he had truly sat and pictured without the flashing fear flooding his mind from his former childhood, too young to grow up so fast or something of that common story. Chance after chance she'd given him but this was one he was never prepared to ask or acknowledge; the chance to change his entire world, the chance to be a father that his never was.

"Shh, Granger…Granger…Merlin, Granger stop crying! Is it so bad to have that part of me?" Her hands moved to swipe at her blotchy eyes, rubbing the red further into the crevices as she lifted her head from his chest, sniffling back a sob, "I thought you would hate…hate me. "

With his hands moving to cup her face, his voice filled in an unknown humor, he shook his head lightly before he drawled his words out into the open bath chamber air, "you have got to be the stupidest, most intelligent witch I know. This is a bloody child we're talking about here! You. Me. Her." His eyes drifted down to her middle resting near chest level as he kneeled before her. "You don't know it's a girl." Flicking back a segment of platinum locks, the casual smirk she'd become so accustomed to played a melody against his lips, "A Malfoy always gets what a Malfoy wants."

"Tonk's has everyone waiting…" she blurted out to his arrogant statement.

"Everyone knows?" She shook her head before finding her nervous habit sucking her lip inside her waiting mouth, "just Ginny and Tonks but…they thought that everyone should know. You know, because of the war and all." Rocking back against his heels, Draco smoothly made his way to his feet, brushing down his slacks and straightening his shirt that was still slightly damp in spots from her eye puddles. "Well, guess it's time to face the music," his hand offered out to her, her weakened grip tugging herself upright in the guidance of his palm in her own, "try not to look like I just told you I'd like to name her Dracona, hm?"

In one night she'd have her relationship with Draco ousted, been tracked down by the paparazzi, threatened by Blaise Zambini, shipped off to headquarters, been thoroughly humiliated inside a lingerie store and then, by sheer accident, discovered she was pregnant with Draco's child. Now, well, now she faced the undoubting task of filling in the rest of the troupes fighting the good fight, or at least the ones taking residence here before the massacre, that she was in deed, with child…and that child was a Malfoy. To say she was exhausted would only make light of the situation, she practically allowed Draco to drag her steps into the dining room, sighing into a chair waiting at the head of the table as Draco moved to stand behind her, resting his hands along the high back of the chair.

"What's wrong, 'Mione? Ginny said you have something important that we all had to hear, that it couldn't wait." Hermione gave herself a mental note to kick Ginny later for helping get the word around. Really, couldn't she have more of a time frame to think this through on her own?

Those chocolate hues were gazing up at him, so many others watching her movements, taking in her haggard appearance while she sat before them. Draco tilted his chin upwards, preparing himself to be blunt and honest, giving her the escape she was obviously longing for but he couldn't bite back the faint laughter in his voice as he tried. It was light and airy, almost in a state of disbelief but he spoke his words quite clearly to the silent breathing of the room, "We're going to have a baby."

It was a somber serious of gasps and clasped mouths. Ginny's wide smile illuminated over the room, Tonk's resting in her husband's lap with his amused expression towards the statement and the young and unlikely power couple. Arthur Weasley was something of an open book, his arm slipping around Mrs. Weasley's shoulders in her flustered state, and just as she had, everyone sat looking for an answer to sum this all up inside their heads. Draco's back tingled lightly, straightening his impeccable posture when Ron stood up from his chair much to everyone's surprise but his. It's been coming for weeks, this fight that had yet to actually filter in, always dying short, always getting prolonged. Ron had them on the edge of their seats as Draco turned to face him, waiting for a moment to jump in but it just never came.

Mere feet lay between them as they squared off; Draco holding true to his position, waiting carefully in front of Hermione's seated form. "If you so much as ever look at her wrong, Malfoy…I will make you suffer with everything that I have." There was no malice, not sarcastic wit slipping from his tongue, just a softened nod of his head, bolding lifting his hand to the vein of his existence for the previous three weeks and countless years before then, "I can accept that." Ron eyed his pale hand in a slow remorse. As much as he wanted to destroy every vein and bone inside Malfoy's body, he couldn't justify taking the one thing that seemed to keep Hermione happy. It took many talks and many hours of smashing anything he could find that wasn't nailed down, even some things that were, to realize that hurting Malfoy would only make him feel like he was right now. He already knew how much it hurt to lose Hermione Granger and wishing that agony upon his worst enemy was a cruelty that no one should have to endure. Hermione Granger was a lot to lose. His hand firmly shook Draco's, dropping it just as quickly as he took it, offering Hermione a peaceful smile before sighing a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. Quietly he muttered some escape route into the kitchen and without giving anyone the chance to protest, Ron fled to out of the crowded room to lick his wounds.

"Well, before these ladies of ours start the gruesome chat about nature and such, I say this calls for a toast, Gentlemen. Shall we retreat to the study?" Remus had maneuvered to stand up behind Nymphadora, delicately resting her in his chair with a fleeting look before making a path straight towards the liquor. Draco turned Hermione's chin up to him, brushing his lips against her own, Arthur kissing his wife's hand as he stood and began down the same trail, Harry sneaking a chance to trace his hand along Ginerva's cheek, leaving the Weasley twins to plant a sloppy smooch on either side of Molly's temple. Hermione's hand shot out suddenly to attach to no particular handful of fabric when Harry and Arthur began to fade further into the background, "don't be long…" Her hand slid down the material of Draco's sleeve, the charming smile gripping upon his face in utter foreshadowing of his banter, "come now, love…I thought we'd snuff out the lights so we can finally find out if it's Potter in the closet with the lead pipe." Slender brows arched upwards at the insinuation but Mrs. Weasley had already turned to swat Draco dead in the thigh, inching back a small wince before she wagged her finger in disapproval. Draco could only lift up his hands and laugh out a weak apology to the scolding mother and her glaring daughter sitting directly a crossed the oak expanse from him.

"So what do you want?" Hermione's eyes were glued to Draco's swagger, filled with a light wave, carrying him down the hall to disappear behind a particular door on the left, snapping her from her drifting attention to blush out, "He wants a girl."

"_He_ wants a girl?!" Tonk's bit out a laugh, loud and true as she smacked the table, Mrs. Weasley's hand leaving her motherly smile as she shared into her laughter, "He is his mother's son."

"Whatever you did to him, hell, I just don't even know what you did to him. He's not even Malfoy anymore…I mean, he's still got that whole blah in your face, I'm the big bad wolf syndrome but now he's all caring and thoughtful. He's got a sodding heart for Christ sake. It truly is beautiful but I got to say I'm a little disappointed I have no one to despise for no utter reason at all anymore."

Hermione's tired body perked at the memories flooding her of her time with Draco, fleeting along the embryo growing inside of her, living from her, made from them. Sitting straighter in her chair, her eyes seemed to spark back to life at Ginny's words, offering her an alternative as quick as she could muster, "I nominate Blaise Zambini for the next in line." For a moment Ginny seemed to ponder the thought, Molly and Nymphadora talking quite animatedly about this form or that form of child birthing. "I second your nomination. I mean, he's still close with Parkinson after all and she's already on the run over with whatever beast I can find list, they're both in Slytherin and it's an equal male to female ratio again. All in favor say aye." They both tediously said aye in unison with a nod of their heads, Ginny's giggle traveling down the hall in the fluttering air as Lupin shoved the glass filled with amber liquid into Draco's hand, Arthur handing Harry his much more gently and with deliberate care.

Harry and Draco turned to eye each other, glancing down at each other's cup with a small shrug before they both tossed the burning trickle down the back of their throats. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry was only tolerating his growing relationship with Hermione and this was still all too new for him to show his true emotions but he was dealing with it one day at a time. While he may not have trusted him with much, he still trusted him with Granger and that was all that he asked.

"Come a long way son. Might have one of your own now!" Arthur moved to fill Draco's glass back, clapping his hand on his shoulder. Pressing the glass to his pale tiers, he inched it upwards, taking a small sip, running the tip of his tongue to collect the few straying beads of liquid. "Hoping for a girl, break the cycle and all," Draco's words seemed to hinder the elevated moods at the hollowing reminder but it drifted quickly, Harry shaking his messed hair as it fell in a smear of raven along his forehead. "Malfoy, I never thought the day would come that you would be standing inside Headquarters telling me that you hoped to have a baby girl with my best friend, muggle born, Hermione Granger."

"Don't talk about her like she should be lowly to me, Potter. She's carrying my child. She's unbelievable." Harry's emerald eyes wandered the bottom of his glass at the last syllable rolled from Draco's tongue. Everything in him wanted to not trust him but when he spoke of Hermione…it was undeniable. As much as he wanted to hate him, Draco had turned against his very existence to stay by her side and that huge of a deed could not go unnoticed. "Now that we've got that out of the way," Draco finished off his second glass, moving to rest it beside the half empty bottle of fire whiskey settled onto of Lupin's rather untidy desk, "shall we discuss the fact that Granger may very well be mother of the year but she doesn't take getting told no so modestly or told what she can and can't do. When this happens…keep an eye on her, will you, Potter?"

Harry nodded his hair back lightly, sending a short lived smile towards Draco as he sat himself along the corner of the desk, crossing his ankles in front of him all the while, "like she's my own."

"You wish."


End file.
